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MEMORIAL  OF  SANFORD: 


COMPRISING    A 


SELECTION  FROM 'ftlS  SERMONS; 


WITH    A 

MEMOIR 


B  Y  [M^    B  A  L  L  0  U, 

FASTOR  Or  THK  T7NIVKRSALIST  SOCIETY,  BRIDGEPORT,  CT, 


NEW  YORK: 
HALLOCK  &  LYON,  PUBLISHERS, 

No.  3  ASTOR  HOUSE,  BARCLAY  ST. 
1850. 


HIS  RELATIVES  AND  FRIENDS, 


WHO    HAVE    DESIRED    ITS    PUBLICATION, 


FOE  WHOSE  ESPECIAL  BENEFIT  IT  IS  ISSUED, 


"MEMORIAL    OF    SANFORD" 


M.  B. 


CONTENTS. 


MEMOIR. 

PAOB. 

INTRODUCTION, 7 

BIRTH  AND  EARLY  HISTORY,   .  .         .           10 

COMMENCES  THE  MINISTRY,          .  .         .17 

MINISTRY  IN  BATH,  N.  H.,     &  .         .           19 

MINISTRY  IN  HARTLAND,  VT.,      .  .         .26 

MINISTRY  IN  MIDDLETOWN,  CT.,  .         .           42 

MINISTRY  IN  LYNN,  MASS.,          .  .         .91 

SERMONS. 
I.  AFFLICTION,    .         .         .         .         .111 

^    II.    MAN  CREATED  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD,         140 

III.  SIN  A  MORAL  INSANITY,  .         .164 

X  IV.  THE  EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST,      .         .         186 

V.  HUMAN  DESTINY,      ....     207 

XVI.  JOY  OF  THE  GOSPEL,      .          .         .         232 


MEMOIR. 


INTRODUCTION. 

IF  "history  ought  to  be  re- written,"  may  it  not 
be  said,  with  equal  truth,  that  biography  has  been 
highly  defective,  not  in  its  style  or  manner  of  com- 
position, but  in  its  subjects  ?  It  has  seized,  for 
the  most  part,  on  the  lives  of  the  famous :  the 
world's  warriors -and  heroes,  tyrants,  and  men  of 
blood ;  not  omitting  its  criminals,  and  those  who 
have  become  notorious  from  selfishness,  ambition, 
pride,  and  lust.  True,  it  has  embraced  the  no- 
blest men  of  genius,  in  literature,  science,  and  art ; 
with  many  who  have  deserved  its  embalming 
power  for  their  virtues,  but  how  small  a  space 
has  it  allotted  to  unpretending  worth  ;  to  moral 
and  religious  merit  alone ;  to  the  self- sacrificing, 
philanthropic,  and  quiet  laborers  for  God  and  hu- 
manity !  How  many  of  this  class  have  sprung 
up  to  bless  the  walks  of  private  life  ;  exhaled  the 


8  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

sweetness  of  pious  and  benevolent  souls,  made 
their  sacrifices,  toiled  their  hours  of  duty,  and 
passed  away  without  memorial  save  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  knew  and  loved  them,  and  leaving 
their  names  unrecorded  except  in  "the  Lamb's 
book  of  life !" 

Pictures  or  sketches  of  such  should  be  scat- 
tered throughout  society.  They  would  encourage 
goodness.  They  would  strengthen  virtue.  They 
would  silently  admonish  the  selfish  and  vi- 
cious. They  would  assist  in  guiding  the  minds 
and  blessing  the  hearts  of  our  children.  And 
that  biography  has  so  far  overlooked  them ; 
that  it  has  so  often  passed  them  by  to  seize  upon 
examples  of  at  least  questionable  influence,  is 
doubtless  chiefly  owing  to  that  false  system  of 
education  which  teaches  us  that  goodness  is  no 
necessary  element  of  true  greatness  ;  that,  a  desi- 
rable eminence  may  be  attained  at  even4-he  sacri- 
fice of  virtue  ;  and  that  we  may  win  distinction 
and  an  enviable  renown  the  more  surely  to  kill 
with  a  Wellington  than  to  heal  with  a  Howard. 

It  is  from  considerations  like  these,  principally, 
that  the  following  memoir  is  given  to  the  world  ; 
that  an  outline  of  Sanford's  brief  and  unpretend- 
ing history  has  been  drawn  from  the  archives  of 
private  friendship  for  the  public  eye ;  and  that 


9 
INTRODUCTION.  9 

while  it  shall  serve  as  a  memorial  for  those  who 
knew  him,  and  form,  to  some  extent,  a  suitable 
example  for  the  young,  it  may,  at  the  same  time, 
respectfully  appeal  to  the  common  judgment  and 
the  common  heart. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  HISTORY. 

THE  border  of  Vermont,  near  its  south-western 
extremity,  is  a  wild  and  picturesque  region.  The 
Green  Mountain  range  strides  across  it  into  the 
upper  part  of  Massachusetts,  with  its  eastern  side 
broken  and  ragged,  thrown  up  into  huge  masses 
of  rock,  crowned  by  noble  old  forest  trees,  or 
ploughed  into  deep  ravines  by  the  Deerfield  River 
and  its  branches,  leaving  occasional  summits, 
slopes,  and  intervals,  to  sustain  a  hardy  and 
honest  class  of  agriculturists.  Its  inhabitants, 
ever  since  its  settlement,  have  retained  many  of 
the  peculiar  features  of  their  Puritan  ancestry. 
They  are  characterized  by  a  somewhat  strong 
sense  of  religious  obligation,  joined  to  a  sturdy 
love  of  personal  freedom  ;  frank  and  simple  in 
their  habits  ;  kind  and  hospitable  in  their  feelings  ; 
laborious,  tolerant,  and  possessing  practical  but 
vigorous  native  talent,  rather  than  high  culture, 
and  plain  but  attractive  home  virtues  rather  than 
great  social  refinement.  Indeed,  their  local  posi- 
tion and  mode  of  life  have,  to  a  great  extent, 
hitherto  shut  them  out  from  the  more  showy  and 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    HISTORY.  11 

false  world  of  fashion,  and  primitive  habits  pre- 
side still  over  their  households,  and  primitive  vir- 
tues gather  around  their  hearth-stones. 

Here,  in  the  town  of  Readsboro',  Merritt  San- 
ford  was  born,  on  the  llth  of  October,  1812,  and 
passed  the  first  sixteen  years  of  his  life.  He  be- 
longed to  quite  a  numerous  family,  somewhat 
wealthy,  and  highly  respectable,  his  father  being 
one  of  the  most  prominent  and  trustworthy  citi- 
zens of  the  town.  In  his  early  disposition  and 
developments  there  was  little  to  distinguish  him 
from  the  better-disposed  class  of  young  men 
around  him.  He  loved  the  sports  incident  to  boy- 
hood, and  was  not  averse  to  sharing  the  toils  of 
his  father's  farm.  Still,  there  was  very  early 
manifested,  and  grew  with  his  years,  a  disinclina- 
tion to  confine  himself  to  the  limited  sphere  of  the 
mountain  farmer,  that  was  by  no  means  prompted 
by  pride,  selfishness,  or  ambition.  It  sprang, 
rather,  from  a  vague  consciousness  of  powers  that 
were  capable  of  a  somewhat  wider  and  higher 
field  of  effort :  the  first  expanding  throe  of  facul- 
ties that  required  a  different  atmosphere  for  their 
development ;  and  impulsive  aspirations  for  a  life 
less  purely  physical,  and  far  more  desirable. 

His  education  during  this  period  was  such  only 
as  the  place  and  time  afforded.  A  summer  school 


12  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

of  from  three  to  four  months,  taught  by  some 
youno1  lady  of  no  very  eminent  attainments,  and 
which  few  thought  of  attending  over  the  age  of 
ten  years ;  with  a  winter  term  of  about  the  same 
length  under  charge  of  a  man  of  similar  qualifica- 
tions, for  older  pupils,  where  nothing  was  at- 
tempted beyond  the  simplest  elementary  studies, 
constituted  the  principal  means  of  public  instruc- 
tion. He  made  the  most,  however,  of  these  hum- 
ble means,  and  was  accounted  among  his  com- 
rades as  a  diligent  student  and  an  apt  scholar.  In 
the  summer,  his  time  was  chiefly  devoted  to  the 
labors  of  the  farm,  and  he  was  often  observed  to 
take  his  book  into  the  fields  for  study  during  the 
intervals  of  toil.  In  his  sixteenth  year  he  entered 
a  store  as  clerk,  and  in  a  journal  which  he  subse- 
quently kept  for  a  season,  he  alludes  to  it,  remark- 
ing, that  the  business  pleased  him  for  a  while, 
more  from  its  novelty,  however,  than  because  he 
had  a  taste  for  it,  and  that  in  about  three  years  he 
left  it  and  returned  again  to  his  father's  farm. 

He  was  now  approaching  an  important  era  in 
his  history.  The  magical  age  of  twenty-one  was 
near.  With  the  wide  world  before  him,  he  must 
choose  his  path  for  life.  He  proposed  to  his  own 
heart  the  solemn  question  :  "  What  is  to  be — what 
ought  to  be  the  business  of  my  life?" 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    HISTORY.  13 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  as  showing  his  prevailing 
disposition  at  this  early  period,  that  the  foregoing 
question,  which  I  have  copied  from  his  own  lan- 
guage, recognizes  the  claims  of  duty  as  paramount 
in  selecting  his  occupation.  The  inquiry  indicates 
a  loyalty  to  moral  considerations  that  formed  the 
guiding  star  of  his  brief  career. 

A  train  of  circumstances,  together  with  the  ten- 
dency of  his  own  feelings,  fixed  a  determination  to 
adopt  the  Christian  ministry  as  a  profession. 

There  were  many  obstacles  in  the  way,  however, 
and  many  difficulties  to  be  previously  encountered 
and  overcome.  A  brief  view  of  the  religious  con- 
dition of  society  there  at  the  time,  will  exhibit 
some  of  the  more  prominent  of  them. 

He  was  educated  in  the  views  of  the  self-styled 
Orthodox.  His  parents  were  Methodists  of  a  mod- 
erate kind,  maintaining  zealously  the  doctrine  of 
endless  retribution,  and  strenuously  opposing  the 
antagonistic  sentiment  of  the  final  holiness  and 
happiness  of  all  men. 

The  latter  doctrine,  however,  had  many  advo- 
cates through  all  that  region.  Toward  half  a 
century  previous,  Rev.  David  Ballou,  an  elder  bro- 
ther of  the  Rev.  Hosea  Ballou,  of  Boston,  and  the 
father  of  the  writer,  had  settled  in  an  adjoining 

*  2* 


14  MEMOIR    OF    SANFOED. 

town  (Monroe,  Mass.),  preaching  as  an  itinerant, 
chiefly  in  the  four  contiguous  counties,  Berkshire 
and  Franklin  (Mass.),  and  Windhara  and  Ben- 
nington  (Vt.). 

For  some  forty  years  or  more  was  he  a  faithful 
herald  of  Universalism  ;  and  there  was  hardly  a 
town  through  all  that  mountain  jregion,  stretching 
nearly  from  the  Connecticut  to  the  Hudson,  that 
heard  not  his  voice  in  its  public  proclamation, 
"  without  money  and  without  price."  At  near  the 
close  of  young  Sanford's  minority,  therefore,  the 
believers  in  Universalism  in  that  section  had  become 
somewhat  numerous.  He  had  often  attended  the 
meetings  of  my  father,  as  well  as  those  of  Rev. 
Hosea  Ballou,  who  usually  spent  a  Sabbath  or  two 
there  on  his  annual  visits  to  his  relatives,  and  had 
frequently  heard  their  views  made  the  topic  of 
private  as  well  as  public  discussion.  At  about  this 
time,  also,  the  public  mind  there  had  become 
I'M -lily  excited  with  reference  to  these  views,  by 
ral  accessions  to  the  Universalist  ministry. 
Iu  \.  H.  F.  Ballou,  who  has  been  for  many  years 
one  of  our  most  industrious  and  efficient  preachers, 
had  then  but  just  entered  upon  his  work  in  Monroe, 
Readsboro',  Whitingham,  and  the  adjoining  towns  > 
in  which  he  was  soon  followed  by  Rev.  Joseph 


BIRTH    AND    EARLY    HISTORY.  15 

Barber,  now  of  Paper  Mill  Village,  N.  H.,  a  good 
scholar  (having  been  bred  a  physician),  and  a 
logical  and  philosophical  sermonizer. 

The  labors  of  these  men  gave  a  new  impulse  to 
the  cause  of  truth.  They  served  to  call  a  more 
general  attention  to  its  claims,  and,  as  may  well  be 
supposed,  exerted  no  little  influence  in  drawing  to 
the  ministry  of  reconciliation  some  four  or  five 
others,  who  soon  after  attempted  it,  including  the 
subject  of  this  Memoir,  who,  together  with  the 
writer,  were  finally  all  that  adopted  it  as  the  great 
business  of  life. 

There  had  been,  loo,  quite  a  revival  among  the 
Methodists  of  Readsboro',  and  especially  in  the 
neighborhood  of  young  Sanford's  residence. 

They  had  succeeded  in  getting  up  considerable 
religious  excitement,  and  he  began  to  think  it  full 
time  to  settle  in  his  own  mind  the  conflicting  claims 
of  these  different  prevailing  views,  and  to  take  a 
decided  stand  either  for  the  faith  of  his  fathers,  or 
what  had  already  began  to  appear  to  him  the  more 
attractive  and  desirable  doctrine  of  Universal 
salvation. 

He  began  a  careful  and  searching  personal  ex- 
amination of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  reading  also 
several  important  works  on  theology  by  able  wri- 
ters, among  which  he  subsequently  mentioned,  with 


16  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

much  satisfaction,  the  admirable  treatise  of  Dr. 
Southwood  Smith,  "  On  the  Divine  Government;" 
a  work  which,  to  the  best  class  of  minds,  as  a  proof 
of  Universalism,  for  its  simple,  clear,  and  conclu- 
sive reas9ning,  is  hardly  excelled  by  any  merely 
human  effort,  except,  perhaps,  by  Rev.  Hosea 
Ballou's  celebrated  "  Treatise  on  the  Atonement." 
^  As  the  result  of  this  investigation,  he  says  :  "  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  Universalism  is  the 
doctrine  of  reason  and  revelation.  I  was  filled  with 
'joy  unspeakable,'  and  I  resolved  to  preach  it. 
Many  obstacles  were  in  the  way.  My  parents  re- 
monstrated. I  was  poor,  and  my  literary  acquire- 
ments were  quite  limited ;  but,  with  the  grace  of 
God,  I  was  determined  to  preach  '  the  unsearch- 
able riches  of  Christ'  to  my  fellow-men.  Having 
this  constantly  in  view,  I  continued  with  my  pa- 
rents, at  least  for  the  most  of  the  time,  working  on 
the  farm  during  the  proper  seasons  for  such  labor, 
and  teaching  school  in  the  winters  ;  at  the  same 
time,  devoting  every  hour  at  my  command  to 
studies  which  I  thought  would  fit  me  for  my  in- 
tended work,  until  the  25th  of  January,  1835, 
when  I  began  the  work  of  an  evangelist." 


COMMENCES  THE  MINISTRY. 

His  first  discourses  indicated  a  good  degree  of 
talent,  with  a  remarkable  freedom  in  composition, 
for  one  who  had  hardly  written  anything  more  than 
a  friendly  epistle,  and  whose  education  in  every 
respect  was  so  very  limited. 

True,  he  was  in  his  twenty- third  year.  The  • 
intervals  of  his  summer  toils  and  his  winter  teaching 
had  been  improved  with  a  zeal  and  intensity  of 
effort  that  are  seldom  found  in  connection  with 
greater  advantages ;  and  hours  that  most  young 
men  would  have  given  to  amusement  and  recrea- 
tion, he  had  dedicated  chiefly  to  reading  and 
thought.  His  earlier  sermons  plainly  showed  that 
this  labor  was  not  in  vain.  Those  who  had  been 
familiar  with  his  boyhood,  and  knew  his  humble 
means  of  improvement,  were  astonished  to  see  him 
step  forth  so  suddenly  and  so  thoroughly  qualified 
for  his  great  work,  with  convincing  thought  and 
persuasive  speech.  And  though  a  prophet  is 
generally  supposed  to  have  little  honor  in  his  own 
country,  he  soon  won  an  enviable  reputation  in 
his  native  town,  and  praise  even  from  those  who 


18  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

could  not  agree  with  him  in  religious  opinions. 
Methodists  and  Universalists  alike  attended  his 
meetings.  There  was  a  fervor  of  zeal,  a  singleness 
of  purpose,  and  a  goodness  of  heart,  joined  with 
firmness,  integrity,  and  a  modest  deportment,  that 
won  him  a  high  position  in  their  esteem  and  affec- 
tions. He  was  immediately  called  on  to  preach 
in  his  own  neighborhood  and  adjoining  places, 
and  continued  his  ministry  in  that  region  for  about 
seventeen  months. 

In  the  spring  of  1836,  the  Universalist  Society 
in  Bath,  N.  H.,  was  destitute  of  a  pastor,  and,  on 
hearing  Mr.  Sanford,  he  was  invited  to  remove 
there  and  take  charge  of  it ;  an  invitation  which 
be  finally  accepted. 


MINISTRY  IN  BATH. 

i 

HE  removed  to  this  place  in  the  month  of  June. 
The  society  was  a  small  one,  but  composed  for  the 
most  part  of  very  excellent  individuals.  They  had 
erected  a  neat  and  attractive  house  of  worship, 
and  were  able  to  support  preaching  for  one  half 
of  the  time,  at  a  very  respectable  salary.  The 
town  was  remarkably  pleasant.  Nestled  in  at  the 
foot  of  the  hills  that  prop  the  base  of  the  far-famed 
White  Mountains,  and  dotting  the  shores  of  the 
Ammonoosuc,  near  its  junction  with  the  Connec- 
ticut River,  it  formed  a  delightful  place  of  resi- 
dence As  a  field  of  operations  for  a  clergyman 
of  rational  and  liberal  views,  it  had  its  trials  and 
difficulties. 

These  views  had  a  few  warm-hearted  and  de- 
voted friends;  but  they  encountered  an  opposi- 
tion as  bitter  as  it  was  blind,  and  as  untiring  as 
it  was  unchristian.  But  it  formed  a  good  battle- 
ground for  one  clothed  in  the  true  panoply  of  the 
Master.  Here  Mr.  S.  took  up  his  residence, 
spending  each  alternate  Sabbath  with  the  friends 
in  the  adjoining  towns.  The  people  soon  became 


20  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

warmly  attached  to  him.  It  was  the  beginning  of 
a  prosperous  and  happy  ministry ;  and,  for  the  few 
years  that  he  remained,  the  cause  of  Divine  truth 
moved  steadily  forward.  The  following  autumn 
he  was  married  to  Miss  Joanna  E.,  youngest 
daughter  of  Henry  Holbrook,  Esq.,  of  his  native 
town.  This  union,  though  destined  to  be  brief, 
was  perhaps  as  perfect  as  any  ever  formed  upon 
the  earth. 

I  would  represent  neither  party  as  faultless,  ex- 
cept toward  each  other.  In  this  respect,  at  least, 
they  seemed  to  be  so.  Probably  it  falls  to  the  lot 
of  very  few  in  that  relation  to  maintain  for  any 
length  of  time  the  entire  congeniality  of  taste  and 
disposition,  habit  and  feeling,  that  characterized 
their  married  life.  Both  were  peculiarly  fitted  for 
it.  He  had  strong  social  and  domestic  feelings. 
His  love  of  home,  kindred,  and  friends  was  more 
than  ordinary,  and  formed  a  very  distinguished 
trait  in  his  character.  He  had  great  respect  for 
females  generally — too  .much,  indeed,  to  allow  him 
to  address  them  with  flattery,  or  treat  them  with 
the  slightest  insincerity.  He  always  maintained 
that  marriage  should  be  based  upon  something 
higher  than  the  realization  of  youthful  passion,  or 
the  gratification  of  sensuous  fancy.  He  believed 
that  mankind  were  formed  for  it :  that,  by  an  in- 


MINISTRY   IN    BATH.  21 

exorable  law  of  their  being,  in  culture,  develop- 
ment, and  the  elements  of  a  true  life,  they  must 
be  imperfect  without  it ;  that  a  single  life  for  either 
sex  was  unnatural ;  and  that  their  cordial  union 
was  demanded  for  the  perfection  of  both.*  With 

*  "  When  I  consider  the  priceless  worth  of  woman,  the  ten- 
derness and  strength  of  her  attachments,  the  station  allotted 
to  her  by  the  Creator,  together  with  the  influence  which  she  is 
capable  of  exerting  on  the  mental  and  moral  culture  of  the 
human  race,  I  tremble  at  the  contemplation  of  the  work  before 
me,  in  addressing  young  ladies  on  their  relations,  their  powers, 
and  their  duties.  *  *  *  *  But,  brief  as  my  time  has  been 
on  the  stage  of  experience,  I  hare  lived  long  enough  to  know 
something  of  the  dignity  of  woman's  station,  and  the  value  of 
woman's  worth. 

"  The  mother  who  gave  me  birth,  who  watched  over  my  in- 
fant years  with  untiring  affection,  whose  lips  gave  me  my  first 
lessons  in  knowledge  and  religion,  and  whose  heart  was  torn 
with  anxiety  as  I  left  the  paternal  mansion  to  go  forth  into  the 
world  and  act  my  part  in  the  great  drama  of  life — that  mother 
was  a  woman.  Those  sisters,  that  were  as  olive  plants  in  my 
father's  house,  whose  hearts  were  knit  together  by  ties  as  tender 
and  strong  as  the  sympathies  of  .angels,  whose  feet  were  swift 
to  render  me  aid  and  assistance,  and  whose  souls  were  melted 
in  pity  and  compassion  at  every  tale  of  human  woe, — those 
sisters  were  women.  And  more  than  all,  that  being  who  was 
the  wife  of  my  youth,  who  joined  her  fortunes,  whether  for  weal 
or  woe,  unto  mine  for  life;  whose  whole  soul  was  instinct  with 
love  for  my  welfare,  and  who  forgot  even  her  own  dangers  and 
sufferings  in  tireless  efforts  to  bless  her  infant  charge;  but  who, 
alas  !  now  sleeps  in  the  grave,  with  that  only  child  pillowed 
upon  her  arm, — yes,  that  wife  was  also  a  woman.  I  know, 
then,  something  of  the  being  concerning  whom  I  am  to  speak. 
3 


22  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

Miss  Holbrook  he  had  been  acquainted  from 
childhood. 

Their  parents  had  long  been  on  terms  of  inti- 

I  have  seen  her  in  most  of  the  varied  duties  of  her  station,  and 
have  been  witness  to  both  her  weakness  and  her  strength. 
*  *  *  *  Much  has  been  said  on  the  comparative  merits  of 
the  sexes.  Man  has  generally  claimed  the  superiority,  and  in 
some  respects  truly.  In  physical  strength  and  endurance  ;  in 
animal  courage  and  daring ;  and  in  intellectual  vigor  for  ab- 
struser  studies ;  for  efforts  which  call  for  great  strength  and 
comprehensiveness  of  thought — it  will  bo  acknowledged,  doubt, 
less,  on  all  hands,  that  he  is  considerably  her  superior.  But 
there  are  other  elements,  equally  important  in  the  sight  of 
God — elements  necessary  to  complete  human  nature;  necessary 
for  the  comfort,  instruction,  and  improvement  of  society,  in 
which  she  most  largely  excels  us.  I  refer  to  her  social  and 
moral  feelings,  and  especially  to  her  affections. 

"  Schiller,  the  German  poet  and  philosopher,  has  well  con- 
trasted them  in  his  poem  on  the  worth  of  woman.    Thus  : — 

"  '  Honored  be  woman  !  she  beams  on  the  sight 
Graceful  and  fair  as  a  being  of  light ; 
Scatters  around  her,  wherever  she  strays, 
The  roses  of  bliss  on  our  thorn-covered  ways ; 
Roses  of  Paradise  !  sent  from  above, 
To  be  gathered  and  twined  in  a  garland  of  love.' 
"  '  Man  on  passion's  stormy  ocean, 

Tossed  by  surges  mountain  high, 
Courts  the  hurricane  commotion, 
Spurns  at  reason's  feeble  cry.' 

"  '  Woman  Invites  him  with  bliss  in  her  smile, 
To  cease  from  his  toil  and  be  happy  awhile, 
Whispering  wooingly,  come  to  my  bower ! 
Go  not  in  search  of  the  phantom  of  power  I 


MINISTRY    IN    BATH.  iJ3 

macy,  and  the  children  knew  each  other  well.  He 
believed  that  she  combined  the  qualifications  that 
were  necessary  to  make  him  happy,  and  the  at- 

Honor  and  wealth  are  illusory — come  ! 
Happiness  dwells  in  the  temple  of  Home.' 

"  '  Man,  with  fury  stern  and  savage, 

Persecutes  his  brother  man ; 
Reckless  if  he  bless  or  ravage  ; 

Action — action— still  his  plan. 
Now  creating,  now  destroying, 

Ceaseless  wishes  tear  his  breast ; 
Ever  wishing,  ne'er  enjoying, — 

Still  to  be,  but  never  blest.' 

"  'Woman,  contented  in  silent  repose, 

Enjoys  in  its  beauty  life's  flower  as  it  blows, 
And  waters  and  tends  it  with  innocent  heart, 
Far  richer  than  man  with  his  treasures  of  art ; 
And  wiser  by  far  in  her  circle  confined, 
Than  he  with  his  science  and  flights  of  the  mind.' 


"  '  In  the  realm  of  man's  dominion, 

Terror  is  the  ruling  word, 
And  the  standard  of  opinion 

Is  the  temper  of  the  sword  ; 
Strife  exults,  and  pity,  blushing, 

From  the  scene  despairing  fliei, 
Where  to  battle  madly  rushing, 

Brother  npon  brother  dies.' 

'  Woman  commands  with  a  milder  control, 
She  rules  by  enchantment  the  realm  of  the  soul ; 
As  she  glances  around  in  the  light  of  her  smile, 
The  war  of  the  passions  is  hushed  for  awhile, 
And  discord,  content  from  his  fury  to  cease, 
Reposes  entranced  on  the  pillow  of  peace.'  " 

Extracts  f  torn  a  Lecture  to  Young  Women. 


24  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

tachment  that  finally  ripened  into  marriage  had 
early  sprang  up  between  them.  She  was  exceed- 
ingly modest  and  retiring  in  her  manners,  simple 
in  her  tastes  and  habits,  amiable  in  her  disposition; 
and  most  fondly  attached  to  him.  O,  with  what 
bright  hopes  and  joyous  hearts  did  they  greet  that 
November  sun  which  dawned  on  the  day  of  their 
union  !  Happy  was  it  for  them  that 

"  Heaven  from  all  creatures  hides  the  book  of  Fate !" 

The  few  years  that  followed,  previous  to  his 
wife's  death,  were  probably  the  happiest  of  his 
life.  His  subsequent  allusions  to  them  were  fre- 
quent, and  in  terms  which  showed  that  they  were 
never  to  be  forgotten.  In  the  days  of  sorrow  and 
loveliness  which  succeeded,  he  terms  them  a  Para- 
dise, and  throws  back  upon  them  such  lingering 
looks  as  primitive  man  might  have  cast  toward 
his  lost  Eden.  At  the  close  of  his  third  year  in 
Bath,  he  received  an  invitation  to  take  charge  of 
the  Universalist  Society  in  Hartland,  Vt.  Many 
considerations  urged  it  upon  his  acceptance.  The 
Society  in  Hartland  was  an  old  and  tried  one.  It 
was  sufficiently  large  to  employ  his  whole  time, 
would  increase  his  income,  which  was  needed  for 
his  growing  family,  and  relieve  him  from  the  ne- 
cessity of  traveling,  especially  in  the  winter  sea- 


MINISTRY   IN    BATH.  25 

son,  to  supply  appointments  at  a  distance,  as  he 
was  obliged  to  do  while  remaining  at  Bath.  Much, 
therefore,  as  he  was  attached  to  his  friends  in  the 
latter  place,  and  strong  as  were  their  regards  for 
him  and  his  wife,  he  decided  to  leave,  and  took  up 
his  residence  in  Hartland,  in  July,  1839. 


3* 


MINISTRY  IN  HARTLAND. 

A"  WIDER,  and,  in  some  respects,  a  different  field 
of  labor  opened  before  him  here.  The  doctrine 
of  Universalism  had  been  preached  for  a  much 
greater  length  of  time.  His  congregation  was 
large,  and  tolerably  well  instructed  in  its  peculiar 
principles.  The  wants  of  the  people  were,  there- 
fore, somewhat  different.  His  attention  was  called 
more  directly  to  investigations  that  he  had  never 
pursued  before.  And  although  his  preaching  was 
still  strongly  of  a  doctrinal  character,  it  became  gra- 
dually less  highly  controversial :  perhaps  it  may  be 
termed  more  truly  philosophical.  He  had  studied 
the  works  of  the  eminent  Dr.  Spurzheim,  and  was 
charmed  with  them.  Mental  and  moral  science 
was  revealed  in  a  new  light.  His  previous  views 
upon  these  subjects  had  been  somewhat  vague 
and  unformed.  They  now  began  to  take  shape 
and  distinctness.  And  from  some  traits  of  his 
sermons,  written  along  at  this  period,  as  well  as 
from  my  private  recollections  of  his  correspond- 
ence and  conversation,  there  was  too  much,  per- 
haps, of  a  tendency  to  make  religion  the  mere 


MINISTRY    IN    HAETLAND.  27 

thing  of  the  intellect.  It  was  a  set  of  propositions 
addressed  to  the  reason.  Its  entire  rationale  must 
be  mastered.  Every  particular  must  have  its  de- 
monstration. Too  little  space  was  given  to  faith ; 
too  little  scope  was  given  to  the  affections.  The 
whole  sphere  of  the  Divine  operations,  so  varied, 
diversified,  and  often  so  mysterious ;  its  compli- 
cated processes  stretching  off  into  infinity,  and  all 
its  wonderful  phenomena  flashing  their  light  across 
the  depths  of  being,  as  comets  across  the  sky, 
must  be  reduced  to  a  system,  and  take  a  form  that 
would  bring  them  within  the  grasp  of  the  human 
mind.  The  spiritual  no  less  than  the  material 
world  put  on  a  stiff  and  mechanical  aspect.  The 
magical  pencil  that  had  mapped  off  the  human 
skull ;  that  had  given  "  a  local  habitation  and  a 
name "  to  all  the  powers  and  faculties  of  the 
mind,  had  pushed  its  seemingly  arbitrary  regula- 
tions into  the  realms  of  spirit ;  had  seized  upon 
the  most  subtle  of  mental  and  moral  operations, 
and  reduced  them  to  a  mere  clock-work.  The 
Universe  became  a  great  time-piece,  the  main- 
spring of  which  was  God.  Perhaps  the  tendency 
of  Sanford's  mind  throughout,  though  long  strug- 
gled against,  and  finally  very  much  modified,  was 
to  reasonings  a  priori.  Taking  the  great  fact  of 
the  Divine  Sovereignty  as  a  stand-point,  and  re- 


28  MEMOIR    OP    SANFORD. 

garding  the  Divine  attributes  as  primal  forces,  by 
the  action  of  which  all  things  moved,  there  re- 
sulted a  kind  of  pantheism,  in  the  abysses  of 
which  all  subordinate  agencies  become  swallowed 
up  and  lost.  Moral  existence, — could  there  be 
any  such  thing  ?  Were  not  all  moral  actions, 
so  termed,  mere  phenomena  evolved  from  the 
apparent  conflict  of  forces  as  necessarily  operative 
and  as  purely  mechanical  as  those  that  impel  an 
engine  or  turn  a  mill  ?  Still,  he  never  lost  sight 
of  the  fact,  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  duty ; 
that  accountability  was  a  reality  ;  that  somehow 
we  were,  after  all,  moral  agents,  with  a  work  to 
perform,  and  a  high  destiny  to  realize.  But  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  notice  more  of  these  specu- 
lations before  we  close.  Some  incidents  in  his 
personal  history  now  awaited  him,  of  a  highly  im- 
portant character ;  the  most  so,  perhaps,  of  any 
which  he  ever  encountered  in  life.  Four  years 
had  rolled  away  since  his  marriage  ;  years  of 
almost  uninterrupted  happiness  :  a  new  source  of 
pleasure  had  been  opened  to  him  and  his  amiable 
wife  in  the  birth  of  a  son.  The  cup  of  domestic 
bliss  seemed  now  filled  to  the  brim. 

The  winter  of  1840-41  passed  pleasantly  away, 
divided  between  parochial  duties,  favorite  studies, 
and  the  delights  of  his  little  household.  His 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  29 

brief  journal,  which  was  commenced  the  succeed- 
ing summer,  alludes  to  this  period  of  sunshine, 
and  describes  the  emotions  which  its  retrospect 
never  failed  to  awaken. 

"  As 'the  little  boy  increased  in  stature,  and  the 
germs  of  mind  put  forth  their  promising  manifes- 
tations," he  remarks,  "  I  looked  forward  to  the 
full  enjoyment  of  a  Paradise  in  my  little  family. 
But  alas !  an  evil  day  came  upon  me.  On  the  3d  of 
June,  1840,  both  my  beautiful  son  and  my  devoted 
wife  were  taken  from  me  by  the  mysterious  opera- 
tions of  Divine  Providence.  For  awhile,  notwith- 
standing I  had  faith  in  the  goodness  of  God  and 
in  immortality,  I  thought  my  affliction  was  too 
great  to  bear,  and  when  I  looked  upon  my  lonely 
condition,  and  upon  the  cold,  unfeeling  world 
around  me,  I  had  a  desire  to  depart  and  follow 
those  pure  and  loving  ones  who  had  gone  before 
me.  But  time  and  faith  have  been  doing  their 
work,  and,  by  their  silent  influence,  bringing  me 
into  a  more  calm  and  reconciled  condition.  And 
though  I  believe  I  have  not  called  in  question  the 
justice  and  goodness  of  God  in  this  measure  of 
his  providence,  yet  I  have  shed  more  tears  over 
my  own  desolate  state  than  over  the  destiny  of  the 
departed.  And  so  'I  continue  unto  this  day,' 
thanking  God  for  existence,  and  the  many  bless- 


30  MEMOIR    OF    SANFOED. 

ings  he  has  given  me,  and  trusting  that  '  the  ills 
that  flesh  is  heir  to'  -will  finally  be  overruled  for 
good  by  his  infinite  wisdom,  when  '  this  mortal 
shall  put  on  immortality.'  >: 

From  the  effects  of  this  severe  visitation  he 
never  fully  recovered.  They  gave  a  tinge  of  mel- 
ancholy to  his  sober  hours,  and  threw  a  chastening 
influence  over  his  lighter  ones.  They  pressed  a 
restraint  upon  the  activity  of  his  social  feelings, 
checked  his  joyous  impulses,  rendered  the  current 
of  his  thoughts  introversive,  and  gave  a  sombre 
tone  to  a  character  naturally  of  great  cheerfulness. 
And,  although  he  subsequently  entered  into  the 
marriage  relation  again,  with  a  very  interesting  and 
amiable  lady,  forming  a  union  as  fortunate  and 
happy  doubtless  as  could  exist  under  the  circum- 
stances ;  and  though  he  became  popular  and  highly 
successful  as  a  preacher  and  writer,  holding  an  envi- 
able position  in  the  ministry  of  reconciliation,  with  a 
wide  circle  of  very  devoted  friends,  still  it  could 
not  be  concealed  from  those  who  had  known  him 
intimately  from  childhood,  that  the  first  freshness 
of  the  heart  was  gone,  that  much  of  .the  elasticity 
of  his  spirits  had  departed,  and  that  the  brightest 
portion,  as  it  were,  of  his  very  being  had  been 
buried  in  the  grave  with  his  wife  and  child. 

The  following  extracts  are  from  his  journal : — 


MINISTRY    IN    HAETLAND.  31 

"Oct.  llth,  1840.— To-day  I  can  say  that  I 
have  lived  twenty-eight  years.  Twenty-eight 
years !  This  period  looks  short  to  me  as  I  cast 
my  thoughts  on  the  past;  but  it  has  been  long 
enough  to  bring  about  changes  in  science,  politics, 
and  religion,  which  have  altered  materially  the 
complexion  of  the  world.  And  what  shall  be 
twenty-eight  years  to  come  ?  O  Lord  !  Thou 
knowest,  and  with  Thee  I  leave  the  result.  If 
Thou  dost  preserve  me  to  see  twenty-eight  years 
more,  0  preserve  me  in  the  ways  of  truth  and  vir- 
tue, and  grant  that  my  labors  may  be  of  some 
benefit  to  my  fellow-men.  But,  if  Thou  dost  see 
fit  to  call  me  from  this  tabernacle  of  the  flesh 
before  my  present  days  are  doubled,  enable  me  to 
be  prepared  for  the  summons." 

"  Nov.  20th. — This  day  brings  to  my  mind  most 
touchingly  many  once  delightful  but  now  sorrowful 
subjects  of  thought.  It  is  a  year  to-day  since  my 
little  son  was  introduced  to  the  world.  *  *  * 
For  awhile  '  the  little  angel,'  as  he  was  affection- 
ately termed  by  his  mother,  grew  in  stature,  and 
put  forth  tokens  of  intellect  and  affection,  and  then 
closed  his  heaven-lit  eyes  on  this  world  of  disap- 
pointment, and  expired.  0,  what  a  bitter  hour 
was  that !  But  the  next  one  was  more  bitter  still ; 
for  in  that  his  devoted,  self-sacrificing  mother,  the 


32  MEMOIR    OF    SANFOED. 

loving  companion  of  my  youth,  shared  the  same 
fate,  as  though  the  happiness  of  Heaven  could  not 
be  complete  if  one  was  taken  and  the  other  left, 
such  was  their  loveliness,  their  sympathy  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  spirits  of  '  the  just  made  per- 
fect.' Since  then  my  home  has  been  dreary  and 
desolate,  and  my  condition  like  that  of  Adam 
mourning  the  loss  of  Eden. 

"  But  I  will  not  repine.  These,  I  trust,  are  not 
the  only  fruits  of  time.  The  period  is  fast  coming 
when  all  her  children  shall  be  born  from  above, 
and  clothed  in  the  garments  of  eternity.  '  For  I 
reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which 
shall  be  revealed  in  us.  For  the  earnest  expecta- 
tion of  the  creature  waiteth  for  the  manifestations 
of  the  sons  of  God.  For  the  creature  was  made 
subject  to  vanity,  not  willingly,  but  by  reason  of 
him  who  hath  subjected  the  same  in  hope :  because 
the  creature  itself  also  shall  be  delivered  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption  into  the  glorious  liberty  of 
the  children  of  God.  For  we  know  that  the  whole 
creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together 
until  now.  And  not  only  they,  but  ourselves  also, 
which  have  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit ;  even  we 
ourselves  groan  within  ourselves,  waiting  for  the 
adoption,  to  wit:  the  redemption  of  our  body.' 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  33 

Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  for  the  light  and  com- 
fort of  Christian  hope !" 

The  winter  was  now  approaching.  Coldly  and 
sadly  was  it  settling  over  that  mountain  region, 
robbing  outward  nature  of  even  the  few  beauties 
it  possessed  for  the  eye  dimmed  with  tears. 

It  seemed  to  increase  his  depression  of  spirits, 
and  deepen  the  shadows  upon  his  heart.  His  wife 
and  child  had  been  buried  in  Hartland,  and  it  was 
determined  to  remove  their  remains  to  his  native 
town,  that  their  final  rest  might  be  among  the 
ashes  of  their  kindred.  He  found  a  change  of 
scenes,  for  himself,  and  a  partial  relaxation  of  his 
duties,  extremely  desirable.  He  decided,  therefore, 
on  dissolving  his  connection  with  his  society.  It  was 
no  hasty  step.  He  pondered  it  long  and  prayer- 
fully. He  had  many  warm  friends  there ;  and  from 
the  best  inhabitants  of  the  place,  some  who  were 
most  ardently  attached  to  him.  They  mourned 
bitterly  on  learning  his  intention  to  leave.  They 
used  great  exertions  to  induce  him  to  remain. 
But  he  could  not  bring  his  feelings  to  consent  to 
it.  It  had  been  the  scene  in  part  of  the  brightest 
and  happiest  moments  of  his  existence,  and  the 
contrast  was  too  severe.  The  following  extract 
from  the  letter  asking  for  a  dismission  will  show  us 
the  leading  considerations  that  urged  his  removal. 


34  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

"The  cause  of  my  taking  this  step,  may  be 
found  not  in  any  very  recent  event,  nor  in  any  dis- 
affection on  my  part  toward  the  Society,  but  in 
the  affliction  with  which  it  has  pleased  God  to 
visit  me.  When  I  canie  among  you,  I  flattered 
myself  with  the  expectation  that  I  might  dwell 
with  you,  usefully  and  happily,  for  several 
years ;  but  in  an  unlooked-for  hour  my  family  was 
taken  from  me  by  death,  and  my  Eden  of  domestic 
and  social  bliss  destroyed.  From  that  hour  I  have 
thought  that  my  stay  with  you  would  be  short ; 
and  having  concluded  to  remove  the  mortal  re- 
mains of  my  wife  and  child,  where  they  can  rest 
with  the  dust  of  their  kindred,  I  have  purposed 
in  myself  to  take  my  leave  of  you  when  this  is 
done,  which  I  expect  will  be  early  in  the  coming 
month  of  January.  To  leave  you  and  my  friends 
here — for  I  know  that  I  have  friends  here — will 
be  a  trial  to  my  feelings,  but  it  is  my  conviction 
that  it  would  be  a  harder  one  to  come  back  here 
to  live  in  comparative  loneliness,  amidst  scenes 
which  were  once  so  rife  with  joy,  but  which  are 
now  shrouded  in  almost  sepulchral  gloom. 

"It  is  my  design  to  spend  the  winter  with  my 
relatives  in  the  south  part  of  the  state,  and  then,  if 
my  life  is  spared,  and  the  great  Master  of  the  mor- 
al vineyard  has  anything  for  me  to  do,  I  hope  to 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  35 

resume  the  pleasing  duty  of  preaching  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ." 

The  earnest  solicitations  he  received  to  remain 
had  almost  shaken  his  resolution  to  leave,  still  he 
felt  impelled  to  go.  He  wanted  rest.  He  could 
hardly  summon  resolution  for  the  mental  efforts 
which  his  duties  demanded. 

"  Dec.  3. — Thanksgiving  day  in  this  State.  Had 
no  meeting,  partly  because  it  was  so  thinly  attend- 
ed last  year,  and  partly  because  I  have  not  entered 
so  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  thanksgiving  as  I  did 
last  year.  Then  all  was  prosperity  and  hope  with 
me  :  now  nearly  all  is  adversity  and  discourage- 
ment. This  very  day  numbers  just  six  months 
since  my  little  family — my  earthly  heaven — was 
taken  from  me.  '  Time  flies  swiftly,'  it  is  true,  but 
this  period  has  seemed  comparatively  long,  so 
lonely  has  been  my  condition,  so  bereaved  my 
heart.  But  I  have  good  health,  and  many  kind 
and  faithful  friends.  For  these,  and  all  other 
sources  of  comfort  and  happiness,  may  I  offer  unto 
the  Lord  continual  thanksgiving." 

"  Jan.  1,  1841. — '  Happy  New- Year'  greets  me 
again,  but  it  falls  upon  the  ear  with  a  more 
melancholy  tone  than  in  former  years  ;  not  that  it 
comes  from  less  cheerful  and  benevolent  friends, 
but  that  my  mind  cannot  give  it  the  same  hearty 


36  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

response.  The  past  year  has  taught  me  a  de- 
sponding lesson,  and  I  look  upon  the  future  as 
more  dark  and  turbulent  than  I  have  done  in 
younger  and  brighter  periods  of  my  life,  or  than  I 
did  at  the  dawn  of  the  year  which  has  just  now 
closed.  I  begin  to  think  that  the  longer  we  live, 
the  darker  the  future  appears  to  us  ;  and  if  this 
is  the  case,  why  should  we  count  it  a  calamity  to 
die  in  the  bright  morning  of  life,  before  the  roses 
of  hope  have  lost  their  freshness  and  beauty  ? 

"  But  I  will  not  look  on  the  future  with  despair. 
My  reason,  philosophy,  and  religion,  bid  me  view 
life  as  a  school,  whose  elements  of  discipline, 
though  severe,  are  necessary  for  the  correction, 
development,  and  improvement  of  mankind.  The 
giant  oak  has  been  made  by  winds  and  storms  no 
less  than  by  serenity  and  sunshine." 

On  the  third  of  January  he  took  leave  of  his 
congregation  in  an  address,  which  was  published 
soon  after  in  the  "  Universalist  Watchman,"  at 
Montpelier,  Vt.  The  following  is  from  his  Journal 
of  that  date: — "  Preached  my  farewell  discourse 
to  the  Society  in  Hartland.  The  congregation 
was  very  large,  and  many  tears  were  shed.  Oh  ! 
it  was  hard  to  tell  them  that  I  must  go  away 
when  I  could  see  regret  manifested  in  the  moist- 
ened eye,  and  hear  its  language  in  sobs  and  sighs  ! 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  37 

It  may  be  that  I  have  erred  in  thinking  it  best  to 
leave  this  good  people  at  this  time ;  but  if  I  have, 
I  shall  find  a  ready  excuse  in  the  sentiment  of  a 
world's  experience,  that  '  to  err  is  human.'  " 

On  the  following  Tuesday,  in  company  with 
several  friends  who  had  joined  him  for  that  pur- 
pose, he  started  for  Readsboro'  with  the  remains 
of  his  wife  and  child.  An  excellent  and  appro- 
priate funeral  discourse  was  delivered  by  Rev.  H. 
F.  Ballou,  from  the  text,  "Be  ye  reconciled  to 
God  :"  in  which  he  urged  that  the  only  ground  of 
reconciliation  for  the  afflicted  is  the  deep-wrought 
conviction  that  all  things  are  under  the  control  of 
a  supreme  and  all-perfect  Ruler,  who  will  surely 
work  out,  by  their  instrumentality,  the  highest 
possible  good  for  all  his  creatures.  Even  in  those 
cases,  therefore,  where  no  reasons  for  suffering  are 
visible,  there  should  be  the  most  entire  confidence 
and  trust,  that  it  is  demanded  by  a  wisdom  that 
cannot  err,  and  a  goodness  that  cannot  be  un- 
kind. 

The  following  picture  from  Sanford's  Journal 
closes  this  sad  scene  : — 

"  Before  the  remains  of  my  dear  wife  and  child 

were   deposited    in    their    final    resting-place,    I 

thought  that  I  must  see  them,  that  I  might  know 

the  condition  in  which  time  and  the  journey  had 

4* 


38  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

left  them.  0,  saddest  picture  in  the  book  of  mem- 
ory !  I  had  previously  fortified  my  mind  with 
the  unavoidable  conviction  that  corruption  must 
have  made  sad  havoc  with  those  once  beautiful 
objects ;  and  I  had  instructed  my  moral  feelings  in 
the  sublime  and  cheering  truth,  that  these  forms 
were  but  the  caskets,  which  must  turn  to  dust, 
while  the  jewels  which  once  dwelt  in  them,  and 
offered  me  so  many  attractions,  and  gave  me  so 
much  joy,  are  garnered  up  in  Heaven,  where  I 
shall  eternally  enjoy  them,  after  I  have  put  off  this 
tabernacle  of  the  flesh ;  and  had  I  not,  my  feelings 
could  never  have  endured  the  sight.  The  form 
of  the  upper  part  of  their  faces  was  left,  so  as  to 
be  quite  easily  detected,  but  that  was  nearly  all. 
'  Alas  !'  said  I  to  myself,  '  I  have  seen  an  end  of 
all  perfection  !  I  have  beheld  these  decaying  rel- 
ics when  clothed  in  beauty  and  radiant  with  the 
smiles  of  love.  I  have  seen  them  move  in  the 
gayest  scenes,  and  witnessed  the  gladness  with 
which  they  enjoyed  the  beauties  of  nature,  or 
mingled  with  the  society  of  their  kindred.  But  I 
see  now  their  end.  I  see  now  that  corruption  is 
their  father,  and  the  worm  their  sister  and  their 
brother.  And  this  is  the  doom  of  all.  None 
wearing  the  human  form,  however  beautiful,  rich, 
or  great,  can  escape.  All  that  now  live,  and  all 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  39 

that  come  after  us  in  the  long  march  of  time,  must 
submit  to  a  like  destiny.  I  have  therefore  seen 
an  end  of  all  perfection.' 

"  But,  blessed  be  God !  light  breaks  in  upon  even 
this  scene.  This  is  not  the  final  denouement  in  the 
drama  of  being.  True,  it  is  an  end,  but  the  end  is 
not  yet.  '  THIS  MORTAL  MUST  PUT  ON  IMMORTAL- 
ITY'! Thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  me  the 
victory !" 

On  the  banks  of  one  of  the  pleasant  little  streams 
that  weave  their  silver  threads  through  the  south- 
ern borders  of  Readsboro',  in  a  quiet  and  secluded 
spot,  interspersed  with  forest  trees,  was  planted  a 
modest  marble  slab,  bearing  the  following  in- 
scription : — 

JOANNA    E., 

WIFE  OF 

REV.     MERRITT     SANFORD, 

AGED  23  YEARS, 

WITH  M.  SPURZHEIM,  THEIR  ONLY  CHILD, 

AGED  6  MONTHS  AND  14  DAYS.  . 

Both  died  in  Hartland,  Vt.,  June  3d,  1840. 
Interred  here  Jan.  7th,  1841. 

The  remainder  of  the  winter  was  passed,  as  he 
proposed,  among  his  relatives  in  his  native  and  the 


40  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

adjoining  towns.  Much  of  his  time  was  spent  in 
reading  and  study,  and  for  most  of  the  Sabbaths 
he  preached  in  the  region  round  about.  One  was 
passed  at  home,  to  which  I  find  the  following 
allusion : — 

"  Sunday. — This  is  the  first  Sabbath  which  I 
have  spent  without  either  preaching  or  going  to 
meeting  for  several  years,  and  I  wish  it  might  be 
the  last  for  several  years  to  come.  I  love  the 
sanctuary.  I  there  hear  truths  of  God,  Jesus 
Christ,  duty,  and  immortality ;  and  these,  I  verily 
believe,  when  heard  in  the  tones  of  the  Divine 
oracles,  are  the  great  levers  by  which  the  moral 
world  will  be  raised  from  corruption  and  degrada- 
tion to  virtue,  holiness,  and  Heaven." 

Very  little  of  his  reading  was  given  to  the  lighter 
works  in  literature.  Indeed,  I  never  knew  one  of 
his  intellect  and  taste  who  cared  less  for  them. 
The  better  class  of  Reviews,  Quarterlies,  &c.,  with 
the  works  of  standard  authors  on  religion,  science, 
and  philosophy,  were  the  most  eagerly  devoured 
of  any ;  especially  such  as  had  any  direct  bearing 
on  intellectual  or  moral  improvement.  lie  received 
several  invitations  to  settle  with  societies  in  dif- 
ferent places ;  from  Brattleboro'  and  Springfield, 
Vt.,  and  from  Hinsdale,  Winchester,  and  Man- 
chester, N.  H.  The  call  from  the  society  in  the 


MINISTRY    IN    HARTLAND.  41 

latter  place  was  peculiarly  flattering,  and  would 
doubtless  have  been  accepted,  had  he  not  just  pre- 
viously preached  as  a  candidate  in  Middletown,  Ct., 
and  given  some  encouragement  to  the  friends 
there  that  he  might  accept  an  invitation  from  them. 
Their  official  call  was  received  by  him  in  April' 
and  his  labors  there  as  pastor  commenced  early 
in  May. 


MINISTRY  IN  MIDDLETOWN. 

HE  entered  upon  his  labors  in  this  new  field  with 
considerable  diffidence.  He  questioned  seriously 
his  adaptation  to  the  place,  and  his  qualifications 
to  meet  the  peculiar  wants  of  the  society  and  the 
cause  in  this  region.  A  few  remarks  in  his  Journal, 
while  on  a  previous  visit  as  a  candidate  for  settle- 
ment, contain  allusions  to  this  fact. 

"March  28th,  1841. — Preached  again  in  Mid- 
dletown.  Suited  my  mind  better  than  I  did  be- 
fore, though  the  delicacy  of  feeling  arising  from 
the  idea  that  I  am  on  trial,  cramps  me,  and  pre- 
vents the  free  play  of  my  powers.  I  know  that  it 
is  foolish  to  feel  so,  but  I  also  know  several  other 
things  which  I  cannot  prevent !  I  think  it  doubt- 
ful whether  I  shall  have  an  invitation  to  settle 
here.  And  if  I  do,  I  doubt  whether  I  shall  accept 
it.  It  seems  to  me  that  my  manner  of  preaching 
is  not  so  well  adapted  to  this  region  as  it  is  to 
Vermont  or  Massachusetts.  The  cause  has  not 
progressed  so  far.  There  is  need  of  more  combat- 
iveness  and  destructiveness  :  and  although  I  can 


MINISTRY    IN    MIDDLETOWN.  43 

meet  opposition  when  necessity  requires,*  yet  I 
prefer  to  dwell  amidst  more  peaceful  and  heaven- 
ly elements,  especially  in  my  present  state  of 
mind.  And  I  really  question  within  myself 
whether  I  ought  to  settle  anywhere  at  present." 

*  An  incident  illustrative  of  this,  had  occurred  at  about  the 
same  time.  In  the  interval  between  the  two  Saboaths  which 
he  spent  in  Middletown,  he  visited  New  Haven,  and  one  even- 
ing listened  to  the  tirade  of  the  celebrated  Elder  Knapp, 
against  Universalism.  "  Never  before,"  says  he,  "  did  I  hear 
such  misrepresentation,  falsehood,  and  abuse,  from  the  pulpit, 
and  I  hope  I  never  may  again.  Univers'alist  preachers  were 
called,  repeatedly,  '  imps  of  hell,'  '  fools,'  '  ignoramuses,'  and 
'  servants  of  the  Devil :'  besides,  his  perversions  of  their  faith, 
and  his  stories  about  their  conduct,  were  too  bad  to  be  endured. 
My  spirit  was  so  stirred  within  me,  that  I  called  him  to  ac- 
count, and  demanded  facts  to  sustain  some  of  his  statements. 
But  he  would  not  obey  this  demand  of  duty.  He  knew,  with- 
out doubt,  that  he  had  taken  false  ground ;  and  it  was  a  mat- 
ter of  no  wonder  that  I  was  not  to  be  heard."  The  following 
day,  some  of  our  friends,  pleased  with  the  position  taken  by 
Brother  S.,  got  out  handbills  and  circulated  the  notice  jthrough 
the  city,  that  he  would  preach  in  one  of  the  Halls  that  even- 
ing. Though  many  of  the  bills  posted  up  were  torn  down, 
yet  the  excitement  was  so  great  that  the, hall  was  crowded  at 
an  early  hour.  He  spoke  upward  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  with 
great  freedom  and  power :  1.  Showing  that  the  great  lead- 
ing principles  of  Christianity  are  as  held  by  Universalists. 
2.  Contrasting  these,  with  the  statements  made  by  Elder  K., 
correcting  his  misrepresentations  ;  and  3.  Examining  some  of 
his  silly  and  wicked  stories,  proving  them  false  from  the  foun- 
dation. It  was  a  masterly  effort,  and  helped  our  cause  much 
in  New  Haven. 


44  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

The  severe  visitation  of  Providence  which  he 
had  experienced,  still  weighed  heavily  upon  his 
spirits.  It  haunted  his  waking  hours  with  oppress- 
ive thoughts,  and  his  sleep  with  visions  of  de- 
parted joy. 

I  cannot  withhold  the  following  allusion  to  it  in 
his  Journ§l : — 

"  May  12th. — For  three  nights  past  I  have  had 
vivid  dreams  of  seeing  my  wife  and  child.  This 
has  afforded  me  a  kind  of  melancholy  pleasure — 
the  more  melancholy  on  account  of  their  ap- 
pearing to  me  as  in  sickness  and  suffering.  O, 
ye  images  of  purity  and  loveliness !  I  wel- 
come your  visitations  to  the  veiled  sanctuary  of 
my  heart :  but  I  would  that  ye  could  come  in  the 
cheerfulness  of  eternal  health  and  happiness  • 
But  even  in  your  sufferings,  ye  appear  pleasant 
and  lovely  as  angels  ;  for  I  see  you  in  imagination 
as  I  have  seen  you  in  reality,  serene  and  placid 
amidst  the  most  violent  ragings  of  disease,  and  ex- 
hibiting such  patience  and  fortitude  as  seemed  to 
indicate  that  your  minds  were  cast  in  a  heavenly 
mould  !  May  a  remembrance  of  your  charms  go 
with  me  forever  !  Ye  are  the  purest  lights  that 
have  hitherto  shone  in  my  pathway,  and  without 
you  the  future  still  looks  too  dark  for  my  endu- 
rance !" 


MINISTRY    IN   MIDDLETOVVN.  45 

I  well  remember,  at  about  this  time,  we  spent 
a  very  pleasant  day  together  at  the  hospitable 
and  friendly  home  of  Rev.  John  Moore,  then  pas- 
tor of  the  church  in  Hartford.  Sanford  had  just 
listened  to  a  couple  of  Lectures  from  the  famous 

0.  A.  Brownson,  with  whom  we  had  a  brief  inter- 
view.    Brownson's  philosophy  at  that  time  had 
just  passed  into  the  phase  of  a  violent  eclecticism. 
He  maintained,  in  his  usually  dogmatic  and  arro- 
gant manner,  that  there  were  vital  elements  of 
truth  at  the  basis  of  all  generally-received  opinions, 
however  discordant  or  contradictory,  and  conse- 
quently, that  no  dogma  of  a  sect  or  party  could  be 
entirely  false.     His  lectures,  however,  just  referred 
to,  were  on  other  topics.     1.  "  The  Democracy  of 
Christianity."     2.  "  The  Reform  Spirit  of  the  Age 
— its  good  and  its  bad."     Of  the  first  of  these, 
Sanford    spoke    very  highly.     He  thought   that 
the  lecturer  succeeded  admirably  in  answering — 

1.  "Those  who  objected  to  Democracy  because 
they  thought  it  anti-Christian;"  and  2.  "Those 
who  objected  to  Christianity  because  they  thought 
it  anti-democratic  ;"  by  showing  that  pure  Chris- 
tianity was  purely  democratic,  using  the  term  only 
in  its  philosophical  signification. 

The  second  lecture  fee  was  not  pleased  with. 
"My  principal  objection  to  it,"  he  remarked,  "  is," 
5 


46  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

that  he  spoke  disparagingly  of  the  benefits  of  edu- 
cation ;  and  after  demolishing  the  systems  which 
other  men  had  proposed  for  the  amelioration  of 
the  world,  he  left  his  hearers  without  a  proper 
substitute."  Sanford  was  an  ardent,  though  a 
very  candid  and  prudent  reformer.  He  had  some 
enthusiasm,  though  he  could  bear  neither  fanaticism, 
nor  the  cold,  skeptical  rationality  of  Brownson.* 
In  the  Temperance  and  Anti- Slavery  movements, 
he  was  especially  interested  ;  and  in  his  earnest, 


*  At  a  subsequent  period,  his  Journal  contains  the  following: 
"  Finished  reading  '  Charles  Elwood,  or  the  Infidel  Converted.' 
By  O.  A.  Brownson.  Brownson  has  formerly  been  an  infidel, 
bat  now  professes  to  be  a  Christian.  This  book  was  written 
to  detail  his  own  experience,  and  let  the  world  know  his  pres- 
ent views  of  Christianity.  The  work  is  written  in  a  bold,  sim- 
ple, and  eloquent  style,  and  there  are  many  things  in  it  which  I 
highly  admire.  But  the  general  train  of  thought  running 
through  it,  or  the  author's  theory  of  philosophy,  I  cannot  ap- 
prove. It  is  too  speculative  and  mystical  to  suit  me.  If  I 
understand  it,  it  is  a  kind  of  Gorman  philosophy,  which  would 
convert  Christianity  into  an  undesigned,  though  fortunate  pro- 
duction of  nature,  and  immortality  into  an  inheritance  of  post- 
humous fame.  In  a  word,  tho  professed  and  boasted  Chris- 
tianity of  Brownson  appears  to  me  to  be  nothing  better  than  a 
Christianized  Pantheism,  virtually  denying  tho  identity  of 
God,  and  of  Christ  5  and  resolving  God,  Christ,  Man,  and  Na- 
ture, into  one  mass  of  '  confusion  worse  confounded.'  I  shall 
bo  glad  to  be  disappointed  ;  but  I  fear  that  it  is  so,  and  that 
Christianity  will  suffer  from  it  in  this  country,  as  it  has  in  Ger- 
many." 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  47 

but  catholic  spirit,  labored  for  both.  Of  the  lat- 
ter, he  said  but  very  little  in  public,  though  I  find 
his  name  among  the  officers  of  an  Anti-Slavery 
organization  in  Hartland,  Vt.,  and  it  is  well  known 
among  those  familiar  with  him,  that  he  was  a  zeal- 
ous and  able  public  advocate  of  the  former. 

Having  become  fairly  settled  in  Middletown,  he 
was  invited  to  take  a  share  in  the  editorship  of  the 
"  Universalist,"  a  paper  published  in  that  city,  by 
Mr.  Conklin,  and  devoted  to  the  exposition  and 
defence  of  Universalism.  He  wrote  much  for  it, 
and  many  of  his  contributions  were  among  the 
most  valuable  it  contained.  But  he  was  too  la- 
bored a  writer  for  popular  reading.  He  could  not 
dash  off  a  racy  article  or  a  piquant  paragraph 
easily,  and  was  not,  therefore,  the  best  fitted  to  the 
work  of  an  editor  of  a  popular  weekly  journal. 
He  was  much  better  as  an  essayist. 

As  a  sermonizer,  there  was  still  a  very  evident 
improvement  going  on,  and  a  far  greater  number 
of  his  discourses  were  practical,  and  devoted  to 
moral  and  spiritual  topics :  perhaps  too  much  so 
for  the  peculiar  wants  of  that  society  at  that  time. 
It  had  but  recently  commenced  its  existence. 
Many  of  the  congregation  were  not  fully  instructed 
in  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  or  its  evidences. 
And,  as  he  suggested,  I  think  that  the  prevailing 


48  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

tone  of  his  sermonizing  would  have  been  better 
adapted  to  a  region  in  which  the  cause  had  been 
longer  established.  His  services,  however,  were 
for  the  most  part  highly  appreciated,  and  he  won 
his  warmest  personal  friends  from  among  the  most 
intelligent  and  excellent  men  of  the  city. 

la  many  respects  his  circumstances  at  this  pe- 
riod were  highly  favorable  to  his  personal  enjoy- 
ment. He  had  a  young  but  growing  society,  em- 
bracing several  families  of  high  culture  and  refine- 
ment. The  town  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
all  the  charming  ones  that  gem  the  valley  of  the 
Connecticut ;  and  to  one  who  enjoyed  as  deeply 
as  he  the  serenity  of  calm  natural  scenery,  asso- 
ciated with  much  architectural  taste  and  beauty, 
it  formed  a  delightful  place  of  residence.  His  in- 
come, too,  though  not  so  much  as  he  was  offered 
by  the  society  in  Manchester,  N.  H.,  was  still,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  ministry,  enough  for  his  com- 
fortable subsistence,  leaving  means  for  quite  an  in- 
crease to  his  library.  But,  notwithstanding  these 
outward  sources  of  enjoyment,  shadows  still  rested 
upon  his  spirit ;  sad  memories  came  freshly  to  his 
thoughts,  and  a  deep  feeling  of  loneliness  pervaded 
his  heart.  And  yet  that  heart  was  veiled  to  most 
eyes.  Not  from  the  slightest  insincerity,  but 
rather  from  a  sense  of  duty. 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  49 

He  would  neither  trouble  others  with  his  sor- 
rows, nor  court  sympathy  by  their  frequent  exhibi- 
tion. His  appearance  was  for  the  most  part  quite 
cheerful,  and  often  highly  so,  particularly  in  the 
social  circle,  and  few  among  the  many  who  enjoy- 
ed his  conversation  ever  dreamed  that  he  carried 
underneath  that  pleasant  exterior  a  hidden  sorrow 
that  he  must  bear  to  his  grave.  Only  to  a  few 
very  intimate  friends,  or  upon  the  pages  of  his 
Journal,  that  were  closed  to  the  public  eye,  did  he 
give  clear  and  frequent  exposure  to  the  fact ;  and 
then  always  in  the  spirit  of  Christian  humility  and 
trust.  The  following  is  another  specimen : 

"June  3. — To-day  makes  a  year  since  death 
took  from  me  all  that  I  held  most  dear.  I  would 
not  murmur  at  my  fate,  but  this  has  seemed  to  be 
the  longest  and  the  least  happy  year  that  I  have 
ever  spent.  It  is  true  that  I  have  been  blessed 
with  friends  true  and  faithful,  and  I  have  not  been 
without  many  sources  of  enjoyment,  for  all  of 
which  I  wish  to  be  grateful ;  but  even  amidst  the 
brightest  hours  and  the  most  pleasurable  scenes, 
images  of  the  pure  and  lovely  creatures  I  have 
lost  come  crowding  into  my  thoughts,  and  poison 
the  purest  and  highest  sources  of  earthly  joy. 

"  What  the  year  to  come  may  bring  forth  is  known 
only  to  Him  who  knoweth  all  things,  but  it  ap- 
5* 


50  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

pears  to  me  that  nothing  worse  can  befall  me,  even 
though  death  should  summon  me  away. 

"  '  If  that  high  world  which  lies  beyond 

Our  own,  surviving  love  endears ; 
If  there  the  cherished  heart  be  fond, 

The  eye  the  same  except  in  tears — 
How  welcome  those  untrodden  spheres ! 

How  sweet  this  very  hour  to  die ! 
To  soar  from  earth  and  find  all  fears 

Lost  in  thy  light — Eternity. 

'"It  must  be  so :  'tis  not  for  self 

That  we  so  tremble  on  the  brink  ; 
And  striving  to  o'erleap  the  gulf, 

Yet  cling  to  Being's  severing  link. 
Oh !  in  that  future  let  us  think 

To  hold  each  heart  the  heart  that  shares, 
With  them  the  immortal  waters  drink, 

And  soul  in  soul  grow  deathless  theirs !' 

"For  some  time  I  have  been  thinking  that  I  would 
attempt  to  describe  the  character  and  amiable 
qualities  of  my  departed  wife,  and  record  them  in 
this  Journal ;  but  as  yet  I  have  not  even  dared  to 
attempt  the  work.  I  could  not  express  my  con- 
victions of  the  value  of  her  social  and  moral  char- 
acter without  creating  the  suspicion  in  all  who 
might  hereafter  see  it,  that  my  estimate  of  her 
virtues  was  formed  under  the  influence  of  a  selfish 
and  blind  partiality ;  and  I  certainly  could  not 
speak  of  her  except  in  terms  of  unmeasured  com- 
mendation. Her  name  and  her  memory  will  ever 


MINISTRY  IN   MIDDLETOWN.  51 

be  associated  in  my  mind  with  everything  that  is 
tender,  meek,  humble,  affectionate,  and  Christian. 
For  delicacy  and  quickness  of  feeling,  and  at  the 
same  time  for  equanimity  of  temper,  I  have  never 
known  her  equal,  and  probably  never  shall. 
Though  I  was  not  permitted  to  live  with  her  quite 
four  years,  I  am  indebted  to  her  for  the  moral  and 
religious  influence  which  she  breathed  into  my 
mind  and  feelings  as  I  am  indebted  to  none  other 
except  the  Son  of  God.  In  all  her  domestic  con- 
cerns she  was  cheerful  and  pleasant :  in  suffering, 
patient  and  uncomplaining ;  and  in  the  prospect 
of  death,  peaceful  and  happy.  Happily  for  her, 
she  had  been  brought  up  in  the  nurture  of  a  faith 
through  which  she  viewed  her  Saviour  as  'the 
Saviour  of  the  world,'  and  I  have  often  heard  her 
say  that  she  never  knew  what  it  was  to  fear  death, 
or  anything  beyond  it.  And  when  the  dark  mes- 
senger came,  she  was  as  composed  and  tranquil  as 
a  child  in  the  arms  of  its  parent ;  and  but  a  few 
moments  before  she  breathed  her  last,  pressing 
her  pale,  cold  lips  to  my  cheek,  she  said  in  the 
most  tender  and  affectionate  tone, — '  Merritt,  do 
not  weep,  it  will  all  be  well.' 

"  Yes,— I  will  hope  that  'all  will  be  well,'  but 
I  must  weep.  Yet  will  I  weep  in  hope.  Through 
my  tears  will  I  look  forward  to  the  time  when  I 


52  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

shall  meet  thee  and  that  cherub  child  in  the  bright 
and  fadeless  realms  of  immortality." 

Little  of  interest  occurred,  that  I  have  space  to 
notice,  during  the  remainder  of  this  summer.  At 
the  session  of  the  Connecticut  State  Convention, 
which  was  held  at  Middletown,  in  August,  his  in- 
stallation took  place  ;  and  he  very  soon  after  made 
a  journey  to  Vermont,  to  visit  his  relatives  and 
former  parishioners,  returning  in  season  to  attend 
the  United  States  Convention,  in  New  York,  in 
September.  At  the  meeting  of  the  latter  body 
he  delivered  an  excellent  sermon,  which  was  sub- 
sequently published  in  a  neat  volume,  embracing 
all  the  discourses  preached  on  the  occasion.  These 
journeyings  at  a  pleasant  season  of  the  year,  and 
the  interesting  religious  gatherings  connected  with 
them,  served  to  restore  in  some  good  degree  his 
former  cheerfulness  of  mind  and  elasticity  of  spir- 
its, and  his  pastoral  labors  and  duties  were  entered 
into  with  a  greater  readiness  and  zeal.  . 

"Oct.  11. — My  birth-day.  Twenty-nine  years  ! 
So  long  have  I  been  a  breathing  creature,  to  say  the 
least,  if  there  has  been  no  mistake  in  dates.  How 
much  of  that  time  I  have  thought,  would  be  a  hard 
question  to  answer  ;  and  how  much  of  that  time  I 
have  thought  right,  and  done  right,  might  be  a 
still  harder  one.  Oh  !  when  one  thinks  of  himself, 


MINISTRY  TN   MIDDLETOWN.  53 

how  little  cause  has  he  for  pride  !  When  I  look 
back  upon  what  I  have  been,  I  see  that  my  being 
commenced  in  littleness,  as  it  were  in  nothing, 
and  that  I  have  held  it  by  a  precarious  tenure — 
resting  seemingly  upon  a  thread  almost  as  feeble 
as  a  spider's  web  ;  and  what  is  still  more  humilia- 
ting to  me,  especially  while  in  a  moral  mood — 
and  I  would  be  so  continually — I  see  that  the 
greater  part  of  my  life  has  been  little  more  than 
an  animal  life,  devoted  to  eating,  drinking,  and 
sleeping,  if  not  to  folly,  instead  of  being  a  highly 
intellectual  and  moral  existence.  And  then,  too, 
my  life  has  not  been  all  sunshine  and  flowers  :  it 
has  been  a  series  of  difficulties  and  trials  ;  though 
I  would  not  complain  of  a  hard  fate,  nor  murmur 
against  Providence.  The  past  is  filled  with  les- 
sons to  make  me  humble ;  and  if  I  venture  an  eye 
toward  the  future,  what  can  I  see  ?  Ah,  nothing  ! 
I  cannot  penetrate  the  veil  that  shrouds  the  fu- 
ture. I  '  walk  by  faith ;'  and  this  is,  after  all,  prob- 
ably the  safest  way  for  me  to  walk.  *  *  *  * 
And  does  not  faith  tell  me  that  all  those  things  at 
which  I  sometimes  complain  will  yet  turn  out  to 
my  advantage  ?  Does  it  not  assure  me  that  I  am 
a  being  of  progress,  and  that  the  mixed  vicissitudes 
of  life  are  ordained  as  the  elements  of  my  disci- 
pline to  raise  me  up  from  littleness  to  greatness  ; 


54  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

from  an  infant  to  a  man  ;  from  a  man  to  an  angel  ? 
So  I  read  in  Revelation  and  in  nature.  O,  bless- 
ed faith  !  May  I  live  in  its  spirit ;  in  resignation 
to  the  seeming  evils  of  my  lot,  and  act  in  agree- 
ment with  its  purpose,  in  performing  the  duties 
which  it  imposes.  Then  shall  I  live  and  act  wor- 
thy of  myself  and  of  the  place  assigned  me  in 
creation.  The  Lord  grant  me  light  and  strength 
to  do  so  ia  future,  more  fully  than  I  have  in  the 
past !" 

"  Oct.  27. — Had  some  conversation  with  H — 
S — ,  on  religion.  He  would  not  admit  that  there 
was  any  religion  different  or  distinct  from  morality ; 
and  with  still  greater  regret,  I  found  him  to  be  a 
Pantheist,  confounding  God  with  the  universe; 
and  still  worse,  he  assured  me  that  some  of  my 
brethren  in  the  ministry  confessed,  though  in 
confidence,  that  they  agreed  with  him  in  his  views 
of  God  !*  *  *  *  These  things  give  me  a  pain 
which  I  cannot  express.  If  these  views  are  true, 

*  I  can  hardly  credit  this  statomontofMr.il — S — .  Our 
ministry  is  too  poor  to  pay  the  price  asked  by  hypocrisy.  An 
infidel,  or  Pantheistic  clergyman,  would  bo  most  likely  to 
•eek  the  more  popular  and  wealthy  sects.  There  was  one, 
however,  in  our  ministry  at  that  time,  in  this  State,  who,  I 
am  prepared  to  believe  from  his  subsequent  history,  might 
have  made  such  an  admission.  I  doubt  there  having  been  any 
other. 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  55 

I  must  throw  away  my  Bible,  my  highest  incen- 
tives to  virtue,  and  my  hope  of  immortality.  I 
cannot  do  it.  My  head  and  my  heart  rise  up 
against  it." 

It  was  about  this  period  that  he  commenced  the 
study  of  authors  on  Geology,  a  science  to  the  in- 
vestigation of  which  he  finally  devoted  much  time 
with  absorbing  interest  and  attachment.  Having 
incidentally  fallen  into  the  company  of  Professor 
Silliman,  he  was  attracted  to  a  perusal  of  his 
"  Appendix  to  Bakewell's  Geology ;"  and  with 
that  part  of  it  which  discusses  the  connection  be- 
tween the  science  and  revealed  religion,  he  was 
particularly  pleased.  It  excited  him  to  pursue  the 
subject  with  the  impression  that  its  facts  would  be 
found  to  correspond  to,  and  confirm  the  sacred 
history.  He  also  read  an  article  of  Prof.  Hitch- 
cock's, on  "  The  Connection  between  Geology  and 
Natural  Religion;"  and  "though  I  am  not  ac- 
quainted," says  he,  "  with  the  details  of  this  in- 
teresting science,  (which  I  very  much  regret),  I 
think  that  the  article  is  very  able.  He  contends, 
and  it  appears  to  me  proves,  that  Geology  adds 
new  light  to  natural  religion.  1.  By  furnishing 
evidence  of  direct  and  repeated  acts  of  creative 
power.  2.  By  furnishing  proofs  both  of  a  general 
and  special  Providence.  3.  By  furnishing  numer- 


56  MEMOIR    OP    SANFORD. 

ous  illustrations  of  the  Divine  Benevolence ;  and 
4.  By  enlarging  our  conceptions  of  the  plans  of 
the  Deity." 

To  these  he  added  immediately  another  admi- 
rable article  from  Prof.  H.  on  "  Geology  and  Rev- 
elation," published  in  the  5th  vol.  of  the  "  Amer- 
ican Biblical  Repository,"  in  which  he  maintains 
that  they  agree :  "  1 .  In  teaching  that  the  material 
universe  had  a  beginning.  2.  In  regard  to  the 
agents  which  have  been  employed  in  effecting  the 
changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the  matter  of  the 
globe  since  its  creation — viz.  :  water  and  fire. 
3.  They  both  represent  the  earth  as  having  once 
been  submerged  beneath  the  ocean.  4.  In 
teaching  that  the  work  of  creation  was  progres- 
sive, after  the  creation  of  matter.  £.  In  the  fact 
that  man  was  the  last  of  the  animals  created.  6. 
In  the  fact  that  it  is  but  comparatively  a  recent 
period  since  man  was  placed  upon  the  earth.  7. 
In  representing  the  surface  of  the  globe  to  have 
been  swept  by  a  general  deluge,  at  a  period  not 
very  remote.  And,  8.  He  imagines  that  there 
may  be  an  agreement  in  regard  to  the  final  disso- 
lution or  destruction  of  the  earth.  Still,  he  ad- 
mits that  there  is  a  seeming  discrepancy  between 
Geology  and  Revelation,  though  chiefly  in  regard 
to  chronology ;  a  topic  which  he  has  discussed  in 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  57 

the  6th  vol.  of  the  Rep.,  but  which  I  have  not 
read." 

"  Nov.  5. — On  looking  over  dates,  I  find  that  I 
have  been  in  this  place  six  months ;  or  rather,  that 
I  have  preached  here  twenty-six  Sabbaths.  What 
can  I  now  say  of  my  location  ?  Not  what  I  wish 
I  could.  Considering  its  age,  I  think  the  society 
quite  a  good  one,  but  have  not  found  so  much 
Universalism  here  as  I  expected.  And  besides, 
the  doctrine  being  but  little  known,  the  taste  for 
preaching  is,  I  think,  for  the  combative  style, 
and  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  some  of  my  best, 
most  evangelical  sermons,  have  not  been  realized. 
Perhaps  the  fatilf  is  in  me  ;  I  can  only  give  my 
impressions.  Much  of  the  time  I  have  been  here 
I  have  been  lonely  and  low-spirited,  except  when 
absorbed  in  study,  *  *  *  and  I  have  no  one  to 
whom  I  can  unbosom  myself,  and  with  whom 
to  sympathize." 

A  few  days  after,  an  incident  occurred  concern- 
ing which  I  ought  to  speak  cautiously,  and  yet 
which  I  cannot  well  overlook,  as  it  had  in  the  end 
not  only  a  powerful  influence  on  his  feelings,  but 
entered  largely  into  the  causes  that  finally  induced 
his  permanent  separation  from  the  society. 

Attempts  were  making  for  a  united  Temperance 
movement  among  the  various  churches  in  the  city. 
6 


58  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

.  It  was  proposed  to  have  a  series  of  lectures  on 
the  subject,  one  from  each  of  the  clergymen  ;  and 
two  of  the  deacons  of  different  Orthodox  churches 
called  on  him  to  solicit  his  co-operation.  He  as- 
sured them  that  he  had  for  years  been  deeply  in- 
terested in  the  proposed  reform,  and  that  he  had 
no  objection  to  complying  with  their  invitation. 
Consequently,  at  the  close  of  the  service  on  the 
following  Sunday,  he  invited  the  members  of  his 
society  to  tarry  for  a  moment ;  laid  the  facts  be- 
fore them,  and  submitted  the  question,  whether 
as  a  body  they  could  participate  in  the  movement, 
and  open  their  house  of  worship  to  Temperance 
Lectures  ? 

"  Greatly  to  my  regret,"  says  he,  "  I  found 
only  a  small  minority  in  favor  of  it,  the  most  of 
them  pleading  that  the  effort  was  a  political  and 
sectarian  one,  and  that  this  step  had  been  taken 
by  our  religious  opposers  to  injure  the  society !  I 
saw  that  the  feeling  was  so  strong  that  nothing 
could  be  done,  and  thought  it  best  to  submit  with 
all  the  patience  and  resignation  in  my  power." 

On  receiving  a  second  call  from  the  Temper- 
ance Committee,  he  concluded  to  give  a  lecture 
when  his  turn  came,  if  a  place  could  be  found  for 
it,  and  promised,  at  any  personal  sacrifice,  to  aid 
the  cause  what  he  could.  '  He  regarded  it  as  pre- 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  59 

eminently  a  good  cause ;  and  felt  that  if  he  had 
fallen  into  a  place  where  he  could  not  freely  utter 
his  thoughts  upon  such  subjects  without  giving 
offence,  his  convictions  of  duty  would  require  him 
to  seek  an  atmosphere  more  congenial  to  his  taste 
and  feelings.  His  conclusion  was :  "I  have  said 
to  myself  that  I  will  be  a  man,  and,  if  possible,  d 
Christian,  leaving  results  to  God  !" 

"Dec.  13. — Read  Channing's  two  discourses  on 
the  Evidences  of  Christianity.  I  think  them  truly 
excellent.  There  is  at  once  a  candor  and  clear- 
ness ;  a  willingness  to  hear  objections,  and  a  sim- 
plicity and  force  in  answering  them,  and  in  the 
treatment  of  his  whole  great  subject,  which  is 
rarely  to  be  found  in  any  writer;  and  his  argu- 
ments appear  so  philosophical  and  conclusive,  as 
seem  sufficient  to  convince  any  candid  and  intelli- 
gent mind  that  Christianity  is  and  must  have  been 
Divine  in  its  origin. 

"  When  I  compare  it  with  the  systems  which 
men  have  formed,  and  survey  the  age  in  which  it 
commenced  its  benevolent  mission,  and  see  how 
free  it  was  from  selfishness,  littleness,  and  crime, 
— how  it  rose  above  the  whole  world  in  its  views 
of  God,  duty,  and  destiny — and  how  it  has  ever 
shone  brighter  from  being  examined,  I  have  often 
said  to  myself,  as  Channing  here  says  to  the  world, 


60  MEMOIR    OF    8ANFORD. 

'I  cannot  reconcile  these  facts  with  a  human 
origin.'  " 

"  Dec.  14. — Heard  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  of  New 
Haven,  give  a  good  lecture  on  self-education.  He 
defined  it  to  be  the  continued  exercise  and  unfold- 
ing of  the  whole  powers  of  the  whole  man.  He 
said  that  the  greatest  mark  of  distinction  between 
the  lower  orders  of  creatures  and  man  is,  that  he 
alone  has  the  power  of  self-culture.  *  *  *  * 
He  pointed  out  a  course  of  study  to  be  pursued 
by  a  man  who  would  make  the  most  of  himself. 

"  1.  He  would  have  him  learn  to  read,  write, 
and  cipher,  well.  These  are  the  keys  to  univer- 
sal knowledge. 

"  2.  He  should  learn  Geography  and  History. 
These  he  must  study  together,  or  he  will  learn 
neither  to  any  great  profit. 

"  3.  He  must  acquaint  himself  with  moral  and 
political  philosophy  ;  not  that  he  should  devote 
himself  to  what  are  vulgarly  called  party  politics, 
for  this  would  be  small  business ;  but  he  should 
learn  the  principles  of  the  government  under  which 
•he  lives,  and  of  other  states  and  countries ;  inves- 
tigate their  bearings  on  the  people,  and  then  in- 
quire into  the  right  and  wrong  of  all  great  ques- 
tions agitating  his  country. 

"4.  He  should  study  the  English  language :  first, 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  61 

by  its  grammar ;  and  secondly,  by  constantly  using 
a  good  dictionary,  (Webster's  is  the  best,  for  it 
gives  the  exact  meaning  of  words) ;  and  thirdly, 
by  reading  a  few  choice  standard  authors. 

"  5.  He  should  make  the  physical  sciences  mat- 
ters of  study ;  not  that  he  must  be  a  complete 
master  of  them ;  but  he  can  and  should  know 
what  are  their  leading  principles.  Astronomy, 
Chemistry,  Geology,  and  Physiology,  were  espe- 
cially mentioned,  and  the  advantages  of  knowing 
something  of  them  briefly  and  eloquently  de- 
scribed." 

The  subject  of  Temperance  again  came  up.  The 
community  was  much  excited  in  regard  to  it. 
The  time  was  approaching  when  the  question  of 
license  was  to  be  acted  on  at  the  ballot-box ;  and 
there  was  much  division  of  opinion,  and  some 
warm  feeling  on  both  sides  in  regard  to  it.  Many 
of  the  best  men  in  the  society,  though  friends  of 
Temperance,  feared  that  its  public  discussion  by 
their  pastor,  under  the  circumstances,  would  create 
strong  disaffection,  and  probably  a  division  and 
separation  of  the  Society ;  and  though  he  would 
not  relinquish  the  prospect  of  ultimately  speaking 
upon  the  subject,  yet  he  agreed  to  postpone  his 
promised  lecture  for  a  time,  and  requested  three 
of  his  piincipal  friends  to  communicate  the  facts 
6* 


62  MEMOIR    OP    SANFORD. 

to  the  Committee  of  the  Temperance  Society  as 
his  excuse. 

"  Dec.  31. — Here  closes  the  year  1841.  It  has 
been  to  me  a  year  of  uncommon  conflict,  labor, 
and  trial.  It  would  be  the  grossest  ingratitude 
in  me  not  to  confess  that  I  have  been  blessed  with 
much  of  prosperity,  but  several  things  have  con- 
spired to  render  the  year  that  is  now  gone  one  of 
peculiar  trial  to  me."  Among  these  he  mentions 
the  sad  memory  of  his  one  great  loss :  "  over 
which  his  heart  still  continued  to  sigh ;"  and  pass- 
es to  speak  of  his  sorrows  and  difficulties  with  his 
Society. 

He  alludes  very  feelingly  to  the  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations with  which  he  settled  there :  pays  very 
high  compliments  to  many  individuals  and  families 
in  his  parish,  but  expresses  his  disappointment 
that  the  society  in  general  was  not  in  some  re- 
spects what  he  thought  it  should  be — that  it  had 
too  little  warm  love  for  religion ;  too  much  fond- 
ness for  anti-Orthodox  preaching ;  and  too  little 
for  that  which  was  designed  only  to  build  up  truth 
and  virtue — facts  that  rendered  him  but  poorly 
reconciled  to  his  situation.  Doubtless  his  injured 
feelings  at  the  time  in  regard  to  the  Temperance 
cause,  his  somewhat  melancholy  mood  of  mind, 
and  his  extreme  sensitiveness  and  loyalty  to  what 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLE-TOWN.  63 

he  considered  duty,  might  have  helped  to  give  the 
facts  a  darker  coloring  to  his  thoughts  than  they 
deserved  ;  and  most  certain  I  am  that  he  left  not 
one  word  on  record  that  was  designed  to  reflect 
unjustly  on  a  single  human  being.  He  concludes 
his  remarks  thus  : — "  But  notwithstanding  all  my 
disappointments  and  trials,  I  have  hope  in  God, 
and  the  most  unshaken  confidence  in  virtue — in 
true  Christianity.  With  this  hope,  and  this  reli- 
ance, I  continue  my  efforts  in  faithfulness  to  my 
mission,  under  the  conviction  that  '  in  due  season 
I  shall  reap,  if  I  faint  not.'  " 

"Jan.  1.— A  New  Year!  1842!  *  *  *  Well, 
so  be  it.  Let  time  pass.  The  world  was  not 
made  to  stand  still.  Changes,  decay,  and  Death, 
are  all  necessary.  The  fact  that  they  make  us 
think,  and  sigh,  and  weep,  is  not  the  least  of  the 
evidences  which  we  have  of  their  value  and  utility. 
Poor  creatures  should  we  be,  doubtless,  if  we  were 
governors  of  the  world.  We  should  command  its 
sun  to  stand  still ;  stop  the  progress  of  time,  de- 
cay, ruin,  and  death ;  and  with  them  we  should 
stop  ourselves !  When  shall  we,  poor  mortals, 
learn  to  be  wise?  God  governs  right.  So  the 
Scriptures  teach,  and  we  should  believe  it,  if  we 
thought  right  and  acted  right.  Time's  changes, 
dark  and  fearful  as  they  sometimes  are,  have  a 


64  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

Divine  mission.  They  are  the  ordained  elements 
of  our  discipline  and  improvement.  Thanks  to  the 
Ruler — so  I  am  learning.  I  say  it  not  boasting- 
ly,  but  in  humility,  and  with  a  thankfulness  which 
my  heart  feels.  I  have  drank  deeply  of  affliction. 
For  a  time,  I  thought  the  draught  too  bitter  to 
bear,  but  it  has  been  gradually  ministering  to  my 
spiritual  health.  It  has  served  to  wean  me  from 
the  passing  and  perishing  things  of  time ;  to 
chasten  and  elevate  my  moral  feelings  ;  to  give  a 
quicker  and  deeper  sense  of  sorrow  for  the  suffer- 
ings of  my  race  ;  caused  me  to  take  more  thought 
for  '  the  inner  man  of  the  heart,'  and  the  true 
sources  of  happiness  ;  and  inspired  me  with  a 
stronger  relish  for  '  the  bread  of  life  which  came 
down  from  heaven,  and  giveth  life  unto  the 
world.' 

"The  time  has  been,  when  I  looked  upon  afflic- 
tion with  fear  and  trembling  ;  but  I  believe  that  I 
can  now  say,  that  that  time  is  passed.  I  have 
learned  who  it  is  that  uses  the  rod,  and  what  it  is 
used  for.  It  is  in  the  hand  of  a  Father,  and  he 
never  employs  it  but  for  the  correction  and  benefit 
of  his  children.  My  chief  concern  now  is,  that  I 
bear  its  inflictions  with  patience,  fortitude,  and  res- 
ignation ;  and  that  it  realize  in  me  its  Divine  pur- 
pose, in  chastening  and  purifying  my  feelings  ;  in 


MINISTRY  IN  MIDDLETOWN.  65 

elevating  my  views  and  hopes  of  immortality,  and 
thus  prepare  me  for  the  fulfillment  of  the  object  of 
my  being.  But,  that  this  may  be  accomplished, 
I  have  something  to  do.  It  will  not  be  enough  that 
I  am  passive.  I  must  act.  I  must  consider  and 
second  the  means  of  Providence  in  this  work,  and 
make  it  my  chief  business  to  bring  my  whole  na- 
ture into  accordance  with  the  laws,  requirements, 
and  will  of  my  Maker. 

"  To  this  work,1  may  I  be  more  faithful  during 
the  New  Year,  than  I  have  been  during  the  old 

one.     I  will  try  to  keep  the  words  of  the  poet  in 

.  j  • 

mind  : 

'  Count  that  day  lost,  whose  low  descending  sun 
Views  from  thy  hand,  no  worthy  action  done.' " 

For  the  three  months  following  he  was,  as  usual, 
veiy  diligently  employed  in  the  duties  of  his  sta- 
tion :  writing,  as  was  his  general  custom,  an  aver- 
age of  almost  two  sermons  per  week,  besides  much 
for  the  paper  ;  attending  also  with  tolerable  faith- 
fulness to  his  pastoral  duties, — though,  like  many 
other  good  men  and  hard  students,  he  was  never 
famous  for  making  frequent  calls  on  his  parishioners 
— and  still  finding  time  for  a  considerable  amount 
of  reading.  "  Guizot's  History  of  Civilization," 
"Channing's  Works,"  The  Works  of  Taylor— 
"  Natural  History  of  Society,"  et  cet.,  "  Dewey's 


66  MEMOIR     OF    3ANFORU. 

Discourses,"  "  Caldwell's  Essays  on  Phrenology," 
and  "  Jouffroy's  Introduction  to  Ethics,"  were  em- 
braced in  it,  besides  "  The  American  Eclectic," 
,"  Boston  Quarterly,"  "  Biblical  Repository,"  and 
other  lighter  works  ; — preparing  during  this  time, 
and  delivering  a  lecture  before  the  Franklin  Insti- 
tute, and  a  lecture  on  Temperance  in  Portland,  in 
addition  to  preaching  three  times  on  each  Sab- 
bath for  the  most  part,  and  attending  to  a  Bible 
class  on  one  evening  in  the  week.  Indeed,  this 
was  little  more  than  an  ordinary  specimen  of  the 
labor  he  performed,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  gen- 
erally was  well  done. 

I  have  suggested  that  in  the  earlier  part  of  his 
ministry  there  was  a  tendency  to  regard  religion 
as  addressed  chiefly  to  the  intellect,  and  reasoning 
from  those  great  fundamental  principles  which  are 
first  seized  on  by  the  theblogical  student,  it  seem- 
ed the  clearest  result  of  logic  that  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  evil  in  -the  sight  of  God ;  that  all 
things,  even  the  most  minute,  being  in  existence 
from  his  deliberate  choice,  must  in  the  highest 
sense  be  perfectly  good.  This  mode  of  argument- 
ation was  fallen  into  very  easily  from  the  frequen- 
cy with  which  he  had  been  called  on  to  deduce 
the  ultimate  happiness  of  all  from  the  supremacy 
and  will  of  God.  But  a  gradual  change,  not  so 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  67 

much  in  his  opinions,  as  his  course  of  study  and 
habits  of  thought,  now  commenced,  which  kept  on 
increasing  until  it  had  finally  affected  some  of  his 
views  very  materially. 

His  combative  propensities  were  never  very 
strong,  and  though  possessing  a  somewhat  logical 
mind,  and  a  fondness  for  reasoning,  he  soon  felt  a 
growing  distaste  for  a  merely  anti-Orthodox  the- 
ology. His  tastes  became  more  spiritual,  his  stud- 
ies turned  to  the  moral  bearings  of  Christianity, 
and  his  sermonizing  became  more  generally  ad- 
dressed to  the  conscience  and  sense  of  duty.  The 
reading  of  Jouffroy,  and  some  other  similar  au- 
thors, at  just  this  period,  highly  encouraged  this 
tendency,  and  indeed  compelled  him  at  last  to  face 
that  inexplicable  problem,  born  of  the  reason  and 
conscience,  viz. :  Divine  Sovereignty  and  Human 
Accountability. 

The  facts  of  his  moral  nature,  in  the  light  of 
consciousness ;  his  conscience,  the  crowning  excel- 
lency of  his  soul,  all  assured  him,  as  with  a  Di- 
vine overpowering  voice,  that  he  was  a  moral,  ac- 
countable being ;  and  reason  answered,  "  God  is 
sovereign,  and  there  can  be  no  will  but  his*  own !" 
This  conflict  between  reason  and  the  moral  feel- 
ings, which  goes  on,  doubtless,  to  some  extent  in 
the  minds  of  most  men,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 


68  MEMOIR     OF    SANFORD. 

terminated  in  his  case  during  life,  but  it  changed 
the  relative  position  of  his  articles  of  faith.  The 
grand  idea  of  human  destiny  as  held  by  Universal- 
ists,  the  great  central  truth  of  the  Gospel,  was 
still  believed  as  firmly,  and  cherished  as  dearly  by 
him  as  ever ;  perhaps  more  so,  as  affliction  had 
taught  him  its  value  ;  but  still  it  had  brought  up 
the  important  idea  of  duty  into  the  foreground  of 
the  picture,  had  given  it  a  prominence  in  his 
thoughts,  and  made  it  an  object  of  effort,  far  more 
than  it  ever  had  been  before.  It  became  a  favor- 
ite conviction  with  him  that  the  purpose  of  human 
existence  was  purely  moral,  that  life  here  was 
merely  a  discipline,  a  primal  school  in  which  to 
train  us  for  immortality.* 

In  the  month  of  April,  he  was  again  called  to 
test  the  efficacy  of  his  faith  under  bereavement,  in 
the  death  of  his  oldest  sister.  It  was  another  bit- 
ter trial  to  him,  and  called  out  some  of  the  higher 

*  The  following  represents  the  tone  of  his  sermonizing  at 
this  period.  "  So  teach  us  to  number  our  days,"  &c.  "  In  mak- 
ing this  prayer,  it  is  not  enough  that  wo  sincerely  desire  the 
good  intimated,  it  is  of  importance  that  wo  have  active  faith 
in  God  as  our  Teacher,  the  conviction  that  he  mil  so  teach  us 
if  we  will  t>ut  become  his  scholars.  And  are  we  not  already  in 
his  school!  What  is  this  life  but  a  school?  What  is  the 
world  we  inhabit  but  a  Divine  seminary,  in  which  wo  aro 
placed  for  instruction  and  discipline  1" — (Extract  from  a  dis- 
course on  Ps.  xo.,  12.) 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  69 

* 

traits  of  his  character.  He  was  exceedingly  fond 
of  her,  and  mourned  much  over  her  early  depart- 
ure, and  the  motherless  little  ones  she  had  left, 
at  the  same  time  giving  utterance  to  his  deep  feel- 
ings of,  confidence  and  trust  in  God.  A  sermon  on 
;'  Human  Destiny,"  called  out  by  this  event,  is  one 
of  his  most  earnest  declarations  of  faith  and  hope. 
Neither  he  nor  his  sister,  in  passing  through  the 
diseases  incident  to  childhood,  had  encountered 
the  one  most  malignant  to  persons  of  maturer 
years.  Both  had  escaped  the  measles.  He  had 
always  dreaded  the  disease,  and  now  that  she  had 
died  with  it,  his  apprehensions  were  so  increased 
that  he  seemed  to  have  a  kind  of  premonition  that 
he  should  never  survive  its  attack.  Twice  had  he 
been  exposed  to  it  within  a  few  years,  and  in  both 
cases  referred  to  it  with  anxiety :  expressing  in 
one  instance  his  earnest  wish  that  when  it  did 
come  he  might  be  in  his  father's  house — where  he 
could  have  a  mother's  care  and  sympathy.  This 
was  the  disease  of  which  he  finally  died ! 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1842,  he  began  to  feel 
the  premonitory  symptoms  of  a  bronchial  affec- 
tion, to  which,  however,  he  paid  little  heed,  until 
the  first  Sabbath  in  April ;  when  he  remarks,  that 
"  for  several  weeks  I  have  had  a  difficulty  in  my 
throat — something,  I  fear,  like  the  first  stages  of 
7 


70  MEMOIR    OP    SANFORD. 

bronchitis,  which  has  troubled  my  speech ;  and  1 
feel  it  to-day  more  sensibly  than  at  any  other 
time.  I  believe,"  he  adds,  "  that  I  have  spoken 
too  much  lately,  especially  as  I  have  had  some- 
thing of  a  cold  about  my  lungs  and  throat." 

During  the  intervening  year  between  this  period 
and  April,  1843,  very  little  occurred  in  bis  history 
that  I  have  space  to  notice.  In  September  he 
became  a  co- partner  with  Rev.  John  Moore,  of 
Hartford,  in  the  purchase  of  the  "  Universalist,"  a 
paper  of  which  they  had  been  for  some  time  the 
editors,  and  which  they  made  a  very  interesting 
and  useful  Journal ;  though  it  is  very  doubtful 
whether  it  increased  their  wealth  very  much.  At 
any  rate,  if  it  did  not  benefit  them  in  any  other 
way,  I  am  very  sure  that  it  was  an  important  aid 
to  the  cause  of  divine  truth  in  this  dark  and  bigot- 
ed State.  The  following  scrap  from  his  Journal 
must  not  be  passed  over,  ns  it  indicates,  in  com- 
mon with  the  general  tone  of  his  writings  at  the 
time,  a  greater  degree  of  cheerfulness  than  he  had 
previously  enjoyed  for  a  long  period. 

"March  1. — Opened  the  County  Court  with  a 
prayer.  Suited  my  mind  better  than  I  did  a  year 
ago,  but  not  as  well  as  I  could  desire.  I  would 
not  be  afraid  of  men,  but  when  I  stand  up  in  the 
presence  of  gray-haired  judges,  and  hard-headed, 


MINISTRY    IN   MIDDLETOWN.  71 

if  not  hard-hearted  lawyers,  I  am  almost  dis- 
posed to  tremble." 

Truly  has  Charming  said,  "  Formerly  Felix  trem- 
bled before  Paul ;  now  the  successor  of  Paul 
trembles  before  Felix  !"  His  throat  had  continued 
to  trouble  him  very  much  for  the  whole  year,  and 
this  spring  seemed  to  be  worse  than  ever.  He 
finally  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  Middletown. 

The  principal  reasons  he  assigned  were — 1 .  The 
condition  of  his  throat  requiring  rest.  2.  His  un- 
willingness to  be  fettered  in  regard  to  the  subject 
of  Temperance.  3.  His  conviction  that  he  was 
unsuited  to  the  wants  of  the  people  in  this  region, 
and  unable  to  perform  the  labor  that  the  interests 
of  his  Society  demanded. 

These  I  find  in  his  Journal :  though  the  letter 
he  sent  to  his  Society  in  June,  asking  a  dismission, 
mentioned,  as  the  chief  cause,  the  condition  of  his 
throat.  Dr.  Woodard  had  just  operated  on  it, 
cutting  off  the  palate,  hoping  that  might  help  him. 
He  was  taking  medicine  for  it  from  various  physi- 
cians, with  but  little  advantage  from  any,  except, 
perhaps,  a  temporary  relief  from  the  use  of  some 
botanic  remedies. 

He  began  to  fear  seriously  that  he  should  have 
to  abandon  the  ministry,  perhaps  entirely,  and  the 
thought  was  very  painful.  He  knew  that  his  pro- 


72  MEMOIR    OF     SANFORD. 

fession  was  a  toilsome,  and  in  many  respects  a 
thankless  one,  but  still  he  loved  it,  ardently  and 
devoutly.  Life  would  have  been  worth  little  to 
him  without  opportunities  for  his  favorite  studies. 
and  these  he  could  hardly  hope  to  pursue  to  any 
great  extent  if  compelled  to  give  up  preaching. 
At  any  rate,  he  must  suspend  his  labors  for  a  time, 
and  accordingly  he  tendered  his  resignation  on 
the  21st  of  June. 

But  as  a  dark  and  portentous  cloud  seemed 
rising  from  this  source  to  shadow  if  not  ruin  his 
professional  prospects,  a  bright  sun  from  a  clear 
sky  was  at  the  same  time  dawning  on  his  social 
being.  Once  more  he  began  to  look  forward  to 
all  the  domestic  endearments  and  enjoyments  of  a 
home.  He  had  been  forming  a  very  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance with  Miss  Adeline  Campbell,  of  Port- 
land, a  remarkably  intelligent,  accomplished,  and 
amiable  lady,  and  promises  of  marriage  had 
already  passed  between  them. 

But  as  the  legal  sanction  of  their  union  was  post- 
poned to  the  early  part  of  September,  he  still  re- 
mained with  his  Society,  preaching  the  greater 
share  of  the  time  until  the  close  of  August,  when 
leave  of  absence  for  six  months  was  granted  him. 
and  Rev.  L.  B.  Mason  employed  to  fill  the  desk 
for  that  length  of  time.  He  took  leave  of  his 


MINISTRY    IN    MIDDLETOWN.  73 

people  in  a  very  touching  and  appropriate  address 
on  the  first  Sunday  in  September,  contributed 
$100*  to  the  Society  on  settling  with  it — to  be 
appropriated  to  repairs  on  their  house  of  worship — 
paid  $50  to  have  the  "  Universalist"  taken  off  his 
hands — was  married  on  the  13th,  and  immediately 
started  with  his  lady  on  a  journey,  via  Boston, 
where  they  passed  a  week  or  two,  among  the  Green 
Mountains  of  Vermont,  and  his  friends  and  rela- 
tives in  that  region.  It  was  his  design  to  pass  a 
couple  of  months  among  them,  and  return  to  finish 
the  winter  in  Portland  with  his  wife's  friends,  and 
if  possible  renew  his  regular  labors  in  the  ministry 
in  the  spring.  In  Boston  he  obtained  from  a 
German  physician  some  homoeopathic  medicines, 
that  he  thought  gave  his  throat  much  relief.  He 
also  purchased  the  back  volumes  of  the  Christian 
Examiner,  to  the  number  of  over  thirty,  which  he 
regarded  as  a  very  valuable  work. 

The  following  extracts  from  his  Journal  will 
give  some  idea  of  his  studies  while  on  the  moun- 
tains, aside  from  the  time  occupied  in  visits,  recre- 
ations, &c.  I  may  add,  that  during  this  time  he 
preached  occasionally. 

"  Oct.  8. — Concluded  reading  Neander's  His- 

*  This,  by  a  vote  of  the  Society,  was  subsequently  re- 
funded. 

7* 


74  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

tory  of  the  Christian  Religion  and  Church.  I  have 
been  much  edified  in  its  perusal,  though  my  an- 
ticipations have  not  been  realized."  In  another 
place  he  speaks  of  the  translation  as  very  bad. 

"  Oct.  9. — Read  several  articles  in  the  Christian 
Examiner.  Am  very  much  pleased  with  those  on 
the  Early  Literary  History  of  Christianity.'' 

"Oct.  25.— Concluded  D'Aubigne,  (History  of 
the  Reformation).  Think  myself  well  paid  for 
the  perusal.  He  has  truly  given  a  vivid  account 
of  the  times,  events,  and  personages  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  and  his  history  doubtless  will  continue  a 
popular  one  for  a  long  time.  It  is  my  opinion, 
however,  that  it  will  not  rank  with  the  highest 
class  of  Histories,  as  it  appears  to  me  that  he  be- 
trays too  great  an  interest  to  plead  the  cause  of 
the  Reformers,  instead  of  making  the  facts  of  their 
lives  plead  it  for  them,  and  spends  quite  loo  many 
words  in  soliloquizing  over  the  events  of  the  nar- 
rative. As  a  record  of  names,  dates,  events,  and 
facts,  it  is  doubtless  a  masterly  work,  but  as  a 
philosophical  exposition  of  the  great  principles 
which  were  contested  at  that  remarkable  era,  and 
their  influence  on  mankind,  it  cannot,  it  seems  to 
me,  have  the  highest  praise." 

"Nov.  3. — Read  in  Macaulay,  (Miscellanies), 
his  review  of  Lord  Bacon.  It  is  certainly  a  splen- 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  75 

did  production,  but  with  some  parts  of  it  I  am 
not  exactly  well  pleased.  It  appears  to  do  jus- 
tice to  Bacon's  moral  character,  and  indeed  to  his 
intellectual  ability,  but  it  does  not  appear  to  me 
that  he  is  just  to  the  ancient  systems  of  philoso- 
phy. Though  it  is  true  that  those  systems  were 
not  experimental,  they  did  not  spurn — certainly 
not  all  of  them — to  be  useful.  Was  it  not  the 
great  study  of  Socrates  to  make  all  philosophy 
useful  ?  to  apply  it  to  all  the  purposes  and  pur- 
suits of  human  life  ?" 

"  Nov.  7. — Continued  Macaulay — his  review  of 
'  Ranke's  History  of  the  Popes ;'  in  which  he  dis- 
courses pretty  freely  on  Romanism  and  Protes- 
tantism. It  is  written  with  great  ability  and  elo- 
quence, though  I  can  hardly  subscribe  to  his 
reason  against  the  decline  of  the  Romish  power — 
viz. :  that  religion  is  not  an  inductive  and  progress- 
ive science,  or  subject  of  inquiry." 

"Nov.  12. — Preached  two  discourses  in  Stam- 
ford. *  *  *  Throat  troubled  me  but  little 
while  speaking,  but  felt  rather  tender  and  sore 
afterward. 

"  13. — Throat  appears  the  worse  for  speaking  on 
yesterday.  Have  now  preached  seven  sermons 
since  coming  on  the  mountain :  too  many,  I  fear, 
for  my  good.  But  it  is  hard  for  me  to  say  no." 


76  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

"  Finished  reading  Macaulay.  I  think  I  have 
not  read  this  man  in  vain.  In  some  respects,  I 
think  him  the  best  writer  that  I  ever  read,  partic- 
ularly in  the  field  of  general  literature.  I  ought 
to  study  him  thoroughly." 

"  Commenced  reading  '  Palfrey's  Lectures  on 
Jewish  Scriptures  and  Antiquities.'  " 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  month  he  returned 
with  his  wife  to  her  friends  in  Portland.  Here  he 
commenced  "Stephen's  Miscellanies,"  the  work 
of  an  able  English  Essayist,  little  known  in  this 
country,  but  in  some  more  recent  productions,  I 
am  happy  to  say,  an  advocate  of  the  doctrine  of 
Universal  Salvation.  He  also  read  Milman's  His- 
tory of  Christianity,  and  wrote  for  the  Trumpet 
und  Universalist  Magazine  a  brief  biographical 
notice  of  Rev.  David  Ballou,  who  had  died  some 
years  previous,  in  Monroe,  and  who  was  mentioned 
in  the  early  part  of  this  Memoir.  It  was  to  him, 
more  than  to  any  other  individual,  that  Sanford 
felt  indebted  for  the  early  tendency  of  his  thoughts 
;md  affections  to  Universalism.  "Mackintosh's 
History  of  England,"  "  Hallam's  Introduction  to 
the  Literature  of  Europe,"  parts  of  "  Mosheim's 
Church  History,"  "Cox's  Life  of  Melancthon," 
<fec.,  were  also  works  which  he  studied  during  the 
month  of  December ;  with  particular  reference  to 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  77 

the  light  they  shed  on  the  era  of  the  Great  Ref- 
ormation. 

"  Jan.  27. — Took  up  '  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall 
of  the  Roman  Empire.'  I  have  before  read  con- 
siderable in  this  sublime  though  infidel  work,  but 
have  now  taken  hold  of  it  to  read  in  course.  His 
description  of  the  sudden  changes  of  power  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  aspired  to  wear  the  imperial 
purple  during  the  second  and  third  centuries  of 
the  Christian  era,  is  a  luminous  but  mournful  com- 
mentary on  the  delusive  glories  of  this  world." 
*  *  *  "  Tried  to  write  a  sermon,  but  the  ef- 
fort was  next  to  fruitless.  After  turning  from  the 
pages  of  Gibbon,  my  poor  faculties  are  so  op- 
pressed with  a  sense  of  their  own  littleness,  and  of 
the  meanness  of  my  efforts  in  comparison  with  the 
proofs  of  dazzling  genius  in  his  work,  that  I  can 
hardly  muster  mental  energy  enough  to  fill  my 
pen  and  approach  my  paper.  This  may  be  ridic- 
ulous, but  I  cannot  help  it." 

"  Feb.  5. — Finished  reading  Gibbon's  Memoirs 
of  Himself — a  most  interesting  work.  That  he 
was  a  man  of  great  genius  and  industry,  must  be 
acknowledged  by  every  discerning  mind  which 
knows  anything  of  him.  Having  read  his  history 
up  to  the  celebrated  15th  Chapter,  in  which  I  have 
marked  the  steps  of  a  stately  and  dignified  giant, 


78  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

I  have  concluded  to  turn  aside  and  read  the  ac- 
count of  his  Life  as  given  in  Lord  Sheffield's  pub- 
lication of  his  Miscellaneous  Works,  comprising 
his  Autobiography,  Correspondence,  &c.  It  is 
astonishing  and  encouraging  to  think  of  the 
amount  and  intensity  of  his  labors. 

"  He  devoured  and  digested  whole  libraries ;  and 
when  he  took  his  pen  to  commence  his  great  work, 
which  he  had  projected,  it  seems  that  his  patience 
was  sorely  tried  before  he  could  acquire  a  style 
which  would  answer  at  all  to  his  ideal. 

" '  Three  times,'  says  he, '  did  I  compose  the  first 
chapter,  and  twice  the  second  and  third,  before  I 
was  tolerably  satisfied  with  the  effort.  In  the  re- 
mainder of  the  way  I  advanced  with  a  more  equal 
and  easy  pace ;  but  the  15th  and  16th  chapters 
have  been  reduced,  by  three  successive  revisals, 
from  a  large  volume  to  their  present  size.'  He 
was  engaged  just  about  twenty  years  on  the  '  De- 
cline and  Fall.'  Considering  the  labor  it  cost  him, 
and  its  value,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  wonder  that  he 
felt  the  emotions,  on  finishing  it,  which  he  describes 
on  p.  107  of  the  volume  before  me. 

"  Though  his  fortune  was  moderate,  he  bought 
books  after  books,  till  he  had  a  library  of  between 
six  and  seven  thousand  volumes.  It  is  plain  that 
after  the  age  of  22  or  23,  religion  was  never  a  sub- 


MINISTRY   IN    MIDDLETOWN.  79 

ject  of  deep  interest  with  him ;  and  it  is  probable 
that  after  he  had  made  himself  acquainted  with 
the  great  Grecian  and  Roman  writers  on  History 
and  Philosophy,  and  especially  after  associating1 
with  Voltaire,  Hume,  and  other  learned  infidels, 
he  almost  scorned  to  give  it  a  respectable  notice, 
or  any,  except  as  a  baseless  and  useless  supersti- 
tion connected  with  the  course  of  his  History. 

"  I  have  not  yet  found  the  least  hint  of  his  having 
read  the  Bible  at  all,  only  while  at  school,  and 
then  merely  a  portion  of  the  Gospels,  as  an  exer- 
cise in  the  study  of  the  Greek  language.  He 
seems  to  have  had  no  faith  in  immortality  ;  and  he 
does  not  even  speak  of  his  having  faith  in  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God.  In  alluding  to  his  old  age,  and 
death,  he  merely  says,  '  I  will  not  suppose  any 
premature  decay  of  the  mind  or  body ;  but  I  must 
reluctantly  observe  that  two  causes,  the  abbrevia- 
tion of  time,  and  the  failure  of  hope,  will  always 
tinge  with  a  browner  shade  the  evening  of  life.1  " 

"  Feb.  15. — Concluded  reading  Gibbon's  Mis- 
cellanies, though  several  of  his  articles  I  have  pass- 
ed over  lightly,  yet  looking  diligently  for  what  he 
says  on  subjects  pertaining  to  religion.  His  infi- 
delity, in  my  opinion,  is  easily  accounted  for  with- 
out any  disparagement  to  Christianity.  If  I  were 
to  go  into  the  matter,  I  should  ascribe  his  infidel- 


80  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

ity :  1.  To  his  natural  want  of  taste  for  religion, 
as  evinced  in  his  early  years  and  education.  2. 
His  conversion,  first  to  Romanism,  and  secondly, 
to  Calvinism.  3.  His  acquaintance  and  associa- 
tion with  Voltaire,  Boyle,  Hume,  and  other  learn- 
ed infidels.  And  4.  His  sympathy  with  the  spirit 
of  the  Greek  and  Roman  Historians  and  Philoso- 
phers. To  these  should  doubtless  be  added  the 
corrupt  forms  of  received  Christianity." 

"  28. — Read  in  Gibbon.  Concluded  his  cele- 
brated 15th  and  16th  chapters.  They  contain,  in 
my  opinion,'  about  the  strangest  and  most  dextrous 
combination  of  facts  and  false  coloring  which  was 
ever  put  together  by  mortal  hand." 

"  March  16. — Read  in  Carlyle's  Hero- Worship. 
In  the  afternoon  went  to  Middletown.  The  trial 
of  the  three  men,  Roberts,  Bell,  and  Hall,  for  the 
murder  of  Mrs.  Bacon,  last  September,  has  ter- 
minated most  unexpectedly.  Yesterday,  as  the 
evidence  stood,  it  all  being  circumstantial,  there 
was  more  against  the  two  former  than  against  the 
latter ;  and  the  public  expected  to  hear  the  sen- 
tence of  death  pronounced  against  the  three  to- 
day. But  Hall  made  confession  last  night,  that  he 
was  the  guilty  man,  and  that  the  others  had  no 
part  in  it !  What  an  argument  against  the  validity 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  81 

of  circumstantial  evidence  in  a  trial  for  capital  of- 
fences !" 

Some  time  previous  to  this,  feeling  that  the  op- 
position of  a  few  individuals  to  the  course  he  had 
pursued  upon  the  subject  of  Temperance  was  im- 
pairing his  influence  and  usefulness  ;  and  thinking, 
too,  that  his  society  generally  was  not  disposed  to 
aid  him  in  taking  a  manly  and  independent  stand 
upon  the  subject,  he  once  more  signified  his  wish 
to  resign  his  connection  with  it.  Much  that  was 
unpleasant,  not  to  say  wrong,  followed  in  the  way 
of  discussion  and  action  upon  the  subject,  which 
perhaps  it  would  do  no  good  to  repeat,  until  it 
was  finally  settled  that  his  resignation  should  be 
accepted,  and  his  final  farewell  was  pronounced 
on  the  28th  of  April,  1844. 

He  again  took  up  his  residence  with  his  wife's 
parents  in  Portland,  and  in  the  bosom  of  that  es- 
timable family,  released  from  the  cares  and  re- 
sponsibilities of  his  pastoral  office,  and  with  the 
pleasant  consciousness  that  he  had  been  faithful 
to  his  trust, — that  during  all  the  trials  and  diffi- 
culties which  he  had  been  called  to  encounter,  he 
had  at  least  striven  with  earnestness  and  prayer  to 
do  what  was  right  in  the  sight  of  God, — he  was  con- 
tented and  happy.  His  general  health  rapidly 
improved  ;  his  diseased  throat  from  time  to  time 
8 


82  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

seemed  to  be  better,  and  he  resumed  his  studies 
with  renewed  zeal,  to  qualify  himself  for  usefulness, 
when  time  and  opportunity  should  open  a  new 
field  of  labor.  I  might  add,  that  he  occasionally 
supplied  the  desk  in  Middletown,  chiefly  through 
exchanges,  until  the  settlement  of  the  present  ex- 
cellent pastor  of  the  Society,  Rev.  T.  P.  Abell. 
The  following  is  from  his  Journal : — 

"  June  18. — In  the  afternoon  went  over  to  Mid- 
dletown, and  called  to  see  Hall,  the  murderer,  for 
the  last  time.  He  is  to  be  executed  on  Thursday. 
He  still  seems  callous  to  the  mordl  character  of  the 
crime  for  which  he  is  to  suffer.  Though  he  man- 
ifests regret,  I  can  see  no  signs  of  genuine  peni- 
tence in  him.  In  regard  to  the  moral  nature,  or 
conscience,  he  appears  to  me  to  be  almost  a  per- 
fect idiot.  After  talking  and  praying  with  him,  I 
took  him  by  the  hand  and  said,  that  in  taking  my 
leave  of  him,  I  would  use  the  last  sentence  of  the 
judge,  as  expressive  of  the  sincere  desire  of  my 
heart,  and  that  I  used  it  with  strong  faith : 
'  May  Almighty  God  have  mercy  on  your  soul !' 
He  squeezed  my  hand,  trembled,  and  wept. 

"  As  I  left  his  cell,  I  observed  that  his  eye  fol- 
lowed me — his  countenance  speaking  the  most 
solemn  concern — till  I  passed  the  window,  the  last 
aperture  through  which  he  could  see  me.  Poor 


MINISTRY  IN  MIDDLETOWN.  83 

object  of  pity  and  compassion  !  thought  I : — edu- 
cated in  vice  and  crime,  thou  knowest  not  the 
serene  pleasures  of  virtue  and  hope,  and  thy  per- 
verted nature  must  be  disciplined  in  suffering  be- 
fore thou  canst  enjoy  the  light  of  the  Divine 
countenance." 

"  21. — Heard  the  sad  story  of  Hall's  execution. 
As  I  expected,  he  continued  to  the  last  seemingly 
callous  to  the  moral  turpitude  and  enormity  of  his 
crimes,  and,  of  course,  without  genuine  Christian 
penitence." 

He  also  wrote,  at  about  this  time,  a  series  of 
very  good  articles  for  the  Trumpet,  on  "  The  So- 
ciety," over  the  signature  of  "  Paubes,"  taking  the 
hint  from  a  series  entitled  "The  Pastor,"  and  sign- 
ed "  Cephas." 

"  Aug.  7. — Attended  the  commencement  exer- 
cises at  Middletown.  In  the  evening,  heard  an 
address  from  that  comet,  0.  A.  Brownson.  His 
subject  was,  'Social  Reform.'  It  was  handled 
with  great  ability,  but  left  his  hearers,  where  he 
generally  does  his  readers,  in  doubt  as  to  the  real 
remedy  for  the  evils  which  he  contemplates. 
The  necessity  for  a  reform  in  the  social  state  was 
argued  :  1.  From  the  fact  that  on  looking  at  the 
actual,  we  form  instinctively  an  ideal  far  above  it. 
2.  From  the  consideration  that  while  for  two  or 


84  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

three  centuries  past,  there  has  been  a  great  in- 
crease of  the  means  of  physical  comfort  among 
industrial  nations,  there  has  been  a  great  dete- 
rioration in  their  social  and  moral  condition.  A 
principal  cause  of  this  was  sought  in  the  separa- 
tion of  the  body  of  wealth ,  or  capital,  from  labor. 
The  idle  are  the  rich ;  the  industrious  are  the  poor. 
In  considering  the  question  of  a  remedy,  he  ac- 
knowledged that  he  felt  himself  unqualified  to  an- 
swer it. 

"  Twenty  years  ago  he  could  have  answered  it 
positively,  dogmatically,  but  he  had  since  learned 
to  be  more  modest !  He  would,  however,  pass  in 
review  the  theories  which  have  been  devised  for 
the  relief  and  regeneration  of  man.  1.  The  plan 
which  proposes  an  increase  of  wages.  This  he 
said  would  not  do,  because,  when  universal,  it 
would  raise  the  price,  but  not  the  condition,  and 
would  therefore  be  ineffectual.  2.  The  proposi- 
tion to  cut  entirely  from  the  past,  and  wholly  re- 
organize society :  as  contemplated  by  Owen, 
Fourier,  &c.  3.  The  destruction  of  all  govern- 
ment ;  and  4.  The  destruction  of  all  religion.  He 
showed  great  ingenuity  in  attacking  the  weak 
points  of  these  various  theories  ;  but  as  to  a  theory 
of  his  own,  he  had  none  to  give. 

"He  believed,  however,  that  the   old   system 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLE-TOWN.  85 

was  the  best — that  of  Christ — the  restoration  of 
faith  and  righteousness  in  the  heart.  The  great 
evil  of  our  times  is,  want  of  reverence  and  want  of 
faith  in  the  invisible  and  the  eternal.  Religion,  he 
feared,  was  doing  little  more  for  man  in  this  age 
than  it  did  during  the^Dark  Ages.  Then  it  had  a 
controlling  influence  over  wealth  ;  now  wealth 
governs  religion.  This  is  evinced  in  the  building 
of  churches  over  stores,  and  in  the  fact  that  if  a 
clergyman  reproved  sin,  so  as  to  reduce  the  in- 
come of  the  society,  he  would  lose  his  situation. 
The  want  of  true  religion,  too,  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  respect  paid  to  the  rich,  and  the  contempt 
with  which  the  poor  was  regarded.  This  feeling 
should  be  reversed.  We  should  learn  to  say  with 
Christ :  '  Blessed  are  ye  poor — cursed  are  ye 
rich  !'  Not  that  we  should  hate  the  rich  :  we 
should  pity  them.  '  It  is  a  great  misfortune  to  be 
rich !' " 

"  He  also  saw  the  want  of  religion  in  the  little 
fear  which  men  are  getting  to  have  for  punishment 
in  hell!  The  terrors  of  the  broken  law,  and  of 
eternal  judgment,  should  be  preached :  for  where 
there  is  no.  fear,  there  is  no  motive  to  obedience  ! 
'  The  good  may  be  governed  by  love,  but  not  the 
wicked !'  We  thought,"  adds  Sanford,  "  that  he 
was  growing  a  little  wild  here,  or  else  that  he 
8* 


86        «^          MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

was  playing  a  game  of  cunning  to  please  the  mass 
of  religionists  !  On  the  whole,  we  cannot  but  re- 
gard the  performance  as  a  strange  medley  of 
strong  sense  and  nonsense,  and  therefore  pre- 
eminently Brownsonian" 

In  August,  he  preached  the  occasional  sermon  be- 
fore the  Connecticut  State  Convention  of  Universal- 
ists,  and  was  invited  to  take  charge  of  the  Society  in 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  as  its  pastor.  This  invitation,  as 
well  as  some  others,  I  think,  he  declined ;  his  sym- 
pathies and  feelings  drawing  him  strongly  toward 
Massachusetts,  and  his  hopes  pointing  to  a  settle- 
ment where  he  could  avail  himself  of  the  social 
and  religious  atmosphere  of  Boston,  and  the  ad- 
vantages, if  possible,  of  the  admirable  Library  of 
Harvard  College. 

He  now  took  up  the  study  of  Geology  in  a  more 
thorough  manner  than  he  had  ever  before  at- 
tempted. 

"  Nov.  29. — Commenced   Lyell's  Elements   of    < 
the  Science.     I  find  myself  in  a  new  field,  over 
which  I  have  hardly  before  even  rambled — and  I 
see  at  once  that  it  requires  careful  study  for  the 
classification  of  its  particulars." 

"  30. — I  begin  to  see  my  way  into  the  several 
departments  of  this  interesting  science,  quite  as 
readily  as  I  expected  ;  and  the  disentombment  of 


. 


MINISTRY  IN    MIDDLETOWN.  87 

organic  remains  is  like  introducing  one  into  a  new 
world.  Lyell  has  been  thought  to  be  an  infidel. 
He  admits,  however,  that  man's  remains  are  to  be 
found  only  in  what  he  terms  the  Post-Pliocene  pe- 
riod, and  that  at  least  a  great  part  of  Europe  has 
been  submerged  since  the  commencement  of  human 
existence." 

"Dec.  2. — I  am  disappointed  at  finding  this 
science  so  capable  of  intelligible  classification  and 
illustration,  as  it  seems  to  be  from  these  volumes. 
I  have  not  read  a  work  with  deeper  interest  for  a 
long  time.  Notwithstanding  the  alleged  infidelity 
of  the  author,  I  find  nothing  in  these  volumes 
which  necessarily  conflicts  with  Revelation,  except 
it  be  his  virtual  denial  of  evidence  in  favor  of  the 
commencement  of  the  earth ;  while  he  admits  that 
man  and  other  creatures  have  had  a  beginning.  I 
followed  him  down  through  the  fossiliferous  with 
the  most  pleasurable  interest,  expecting  that  he 
would  come  to  a  period  in  the  disclosed  history  of 
the  earth  ;  but  to  my  disappointment,  though  he 
could  trace  the  marks  of  organic  existence  no  far- 
ther, he  expresses  the  opinion  that  the  period  at 
which  it  began  is  not  to  be  reached  ;  and  in  his 
subsequent  reasoning  on  the  nature,  origin,  and 
age  of  the  volcanic  and  metamorphic  rocks,  a 
theory  seems  to  '  peep  out,'  according  to  which 


88  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

the  earth,  and  the  types  of  its  living  inhabitants, 
very  possibly  had  no  beginning ! 

"  In  concluding,  he  says,  '  If  we  have  found  it 
impossible  to  assign  any  limit  to  that  time,  through- 
out which  it  hath  pleased  an  Omnipotent  and 
Eternal  Being  to  manifest  his  creative  power,  we 
have  at  least  succeeded,  beyond  all  hope,  in  carry- 
ing back  our  researches  to  a  time  antecedent  to  the 
existence  of  man. 

" '  We  can  prove  that  man  had  a  beginning,  and 
that  all  the  species  now  contemporary  with  man, 
and  many  others  which  preceded,  had  also  a  be- 
ginning ;  and  that  consequently,  the  present  state 
of  the  organic  world  has  not  gone  on  from  all 
eternity,  as  some  philosophers  have  maintained.' 
This  sounds  like  good  Theism." 

"Dec.  4. — Concluded  reading  Silliman's  Out- 
lines of  Geological  Lectures.  Do  not  think  they 
give  anything  like  as  clear  a  view  of  the  science  as 
Lyell  does  in  his  '  Elements.'  In  speaking  more 
confidently  of  the  origin  of  things,  and  by  refer- 
ring their  creation  more  frequently  to  God,  he 
appears  to  be  more  of  a  Christian.  In  fact,  he 
professes  to  see  no  contradiction  between  the  dis- 
coveries of  this  science  and  the  declarations  of  the 
Bible.  Some  of  his  views  with  regard  to  the  del- 
uge, however,  he  will  probably  have  to  modify — 


MINISTRY  IN   MIDDLETGWN. 

if,  in  fact,  he  has  not  already  done  so,  since  his  work 
was  written — as  has  been  the  case  with  Hitchcock, 
Buckland,  Sedgwick,  and  others." 

"  5. — Began  Hitchcock's  Geology.  This  science 
has  really  more  interest  in  it  than  any  which  I  have 
taken  up  for  a  long  time,  and  I  regret  that  I  have 
allowed  myself  to  remain  comparatively  ignorant 
of  it  so  long,  and  that  I  have  not  an  opportunity 
of  studying  it  under  a  competent  professor." 

"  6. — Read  some  in  Hitchcock.  Commenced  writ- 
ing a  sermon,  thinking  that  I  must  allow  my  Gos- 
pel weapons  to  become  rusty.  Subject — The 
Communication  of  Moral  Life  —  the  object  of 
Christ's  Mission." 

"  7. — Read  some,  and  concluded  the  sermon, 
such  as  it  is : — rather  a  small  affair,  I  think.  In- 
deed, my  mind  is  not  in  the  best  mood  for  sermon- 
writing,  but  I  think  it  better  to  write  poor  ones 
than  none."  He  also  read  Buckland's  Bridge- 
water  Treatise,  remarking,  that  if  it  had  not 
strengthened  his  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the 
Mosaic  cosmogony,  it  had  at  least  given  him  a 
more  vivid  impression  of  the  Divine  wisdom  and 
goodness,  as  displayed  in  the  structure  of  the  va- 
rious races  of  beings  that  once  lived  and  moved 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  whose  remains  are 
left  imbedded  in  the  folds  of  her  strata.  He  then 


90  MEMOIR    OP    SANFORD. 

passed  to  Lyell's  "Principles  of  Geology,"  a 
wor|f  of  which  he  speaks  in  the  highest  terms  of 
praise. 

"16. — Read  in  Lyell.  Am  charmed  with  the 
liquid  clearness  of  his  style,  and  almost  alarmed 
at  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  views.  What  can 
be  more  admirable  than  his  historical  view  of  the 
rise  and  progress  of  Geology  ?  It  is  a  remarka- 
ble fact,  that  among  all  the  nations  of  antiquity, 
the  origin  of  the  earth  was  ascribed  to  a  Divine, 
cause,  and  its  changes  and  revolutions  to  the  ac- 
tion of  two  agents,  water  and  fire.  In  like  man- 
ner, have  not  all  the  traditions  of  antiquity  truth 
as  well  as  poetry  in  them  ?" 

Still  continuing  his  studies  very  closely,  he 
preached  most  of  the  time  in  various  places,  visit- 
ing some  societies  as  a  candidate  for  settlement, 
and  among  them,  the  First  Society,  in  Lynn,  Mass. 
His  services  here  were  very  well  received,  and  he 
finally  accepted  an  invitation  to  remove  there  and 
take  charge  of  the  society,  on  the  first  of  Jan- 
uary, 1845. 


MINISTRY  IN  LYNN. 

"  I  ENTER  upon  the  duties  of  this  new  situation," 
says  he  in  his  Journal,  "  with  deep  solicitude,  and 
with  earnest  prayer  that  it  may  prove  beneficial 
both  to  myself  and  to  my  people." 

"I  find  a  very  different  state  of  things  here 
from  that  in  Connecticut.  There,  there  was  too 
much  conservatism :  here,  too  much  radicalism  : 
especially  as  manifested  in  Come-outer-ism,  the 
most  radical  of  all  the  isms  with  which  I  was  ever 
acquainted."  This  last  remark  was  made  after  he 
had  been  in  the  place  long  enough  to  notice,  with 
some  care,  its  peculiarities,  as  a  kind  of  rallying- 
point  for  all  the  outlandish  visionaries, — social  and 
religious,  or  rather  anti-religious — of  that  region. 

He  had  now  attained  an  age,  and  an  experience, 
which  gave  distinctness  and  strength  to  his  views, 
tone  and  direction  to  his  feelings,  stability  and  ele- 
vation to  his  character ;  and  had  added  materially 
to  his  qualifications  for  his  position,  and  the  work 
that  lay  before  him.  The  condition  of  things  in 
Lynn  was,  at  this  time,  somewhat  peculiar,  and  in 
some  respects  unfavorable  to  his  success  as  a 


92  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

Christian  minister.  He  was  a  devout  and  reverent 
lover  of  the  Bible.*  He  loved  the  plain,  simple 
truths  of  the  Gospel.  He  believed  them  to  be  "the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation."  And  although 
these  facts  endeared  him  to  the  larger  and  better 
portion  of  the  people  of  his  congregation,  they 
served  by  no  means  to  recommend  him  to  the  re- 
mainder. These  had  grown  wiser.  A  kind  of 
mongrel  rationalism,  made  up  of  Parkerism  and 
water,  had  been  left  among  them  by  his  predeces- 
sor, Rev.  H.  G.  Smith,  of  which  he  was  ignorant 
at  the  time  he  agreed  to  take  charge  of  the  society. 
In  fact,  when  the  vote  was  taken  inviting  him, 
many  of  this  class  were  for  attempting  to  have  Mr. 
Smith  return,  being  strongly  in  favor  of  his  pecu- 
liar opinions.  Indeed,  so  unfavorable  was  the 
condition  of  affairs  in  this  and  other  similar  re- 
spects, that  I  seriously  doubt  whether  a  man  of 
very  ordinary  powers  and  qualifications  could  have 
sustained  himself  for  any  length  of  time,  commen- 
cing when  he  did.  But,  notwithstanding  these  cir- 
cumstances, his  labors  were  attended  with  a  good 

*  "  I  am,  and  I  must  be,  an  ardent  lover  of  the  Bible.  I 
would  not  exchange  it  for  all  the  systems  of  philosophy  which 
the  ingenuity  of  human  wisdom  has  ever  formed.  I  love  the 
Bible  for  what  it  teaches  of  God,  his  nature  and  character  ; 
and,  if  possible,  I  love  it  more  for  what  it  reveals  of  man,  hu- 
man nature,  duty,  and  destiny."— Extract  from  a  Sermon. 


degree  of  success,  and  the  number  of  his  friends 
was  doubtless  far  greater  at  the  close  than  at  the 
commencement  of  his  ministry  among  them.  His 
congregations  were  quite  large;  the  friends  active 
and  zealous  ;  the  church  was  newly  painted  in 
fresco,  the  Sabbath-school  reorganized,  and  a  grad- 
ual but  healthy  growth  seemed  to  have  truly  began. 
There  is  a  characteristic  allusion,  in  his  Journal 
at  this  period,  to  some  objections  made  to  his 
manner  of  speaking.  "April  3. — In  returning 
home  with  a  member  of  my  society,  I  was  told 
that  I  should  be  liked  very  much  if  I  had  more 
energy  in  my  delivery.  Energy  ! — whether  it  is 
noise  or  mental  activity  that  is  wanted,  I  do  not 
know.  Poor  fellow  that  I  am  !  I  cannot  well 
feign  what  I  do  not  feel ;  I  cannot  easily  put 
on  the  appearance  of  devotion  and  earnest- 
ness— such,  I  mean,  as  stupidity  looks  for — when 
I  am  in  'a  calm  and  heavenly  frame.'  I  do  hate 
to  rage  and  foam  in  the  sacred  desk,  much  as  it  is 
liked  by  the  multitude!"  For  some  months  from 
this  date,  I  find  little  in  his  history  that  demands 
particular  notice.  Amidst  alternate  clouds  and 
sunshine,  such  as  usually  make  up  the  great  body 
of  human  life,  he  seems  to  have  toiled  on  very  per- 
severingly,  and  withal  very  happily.  Once  more 
he  had  emphatically  a  home — a  domestic  retreat 
9 


94  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

to  which  he  could  fly  from  cares  and  trials  with- 
out, soothing  and  strengthening  his  spirit  in  the 
arms  of  sympathy  and  love.  He  still  read  much, 
and  though  he  had  a  large  quantity  of  manuscripts 
on  hand,  he  continued  his  sermon- writing,  prepar- 
ing generally  one,  and  often  two  discourses  per 
week,  besides  many  of  his  best  and  most  labored 
efforts  for  the  press,  in  addition  to  a  few  literary 
and  scientific  lectures.  We  commence  his  Journal 
again,  with — 

"May  25th,  1846. — For  the  last  six  months  or 
so,  I  have  neglected  to  keep  a  record  of  my  labors 
and  affairs,  partly  because  I  could  not  procure  a 
book  such  as  I  wanted  for  the  purpose ;  partly  be- 
cause of  mere  neglect ;  and  then,  again,  partly  be- 
cause I  have  had  but  little  important  matter  to 
record.  For  the  most  part,  things  with  me  and 
mine  have  passed  along  in  a  quiet  and  prosperous 
way.  Among  those  which  have  interested  me 
most,  may  be  mentioned  the  following,  (leaving, 
of  course,  domestic  affairs  out  of  the  account)  : 

"  1.  During  the  early  part  of  the  winter,  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  hearing  Charles  Lyell,  Esq.,  in 
a  course  of  lectures  on  Geology,  before  the  Lowell 
Institute,  Boston.  Though  not  exceedingly  inter- 
esting as  a  speaker,  he  was  clear  in  his  arrange- 
ment, choice  in  his  language,  familiar  with  his  sub- 


*      * 

MINISTRY    IN    LYNN.  95 

ject,  and,  withal,  distinct  in  his  enunciation.  He 
has  a  handsome  figure,  large  and  well-propor- 
tioned head,  and  a  bright  and  sparkling,  though 
not  prominent,  blue  eye.  The  first  lecture  in 
which  I  heard  him  was  devoted  to  an  inquiry  into 
the  botany  of  the  carboniferous  era.  Many  com- 
plained of  its  dryness,  but  to  me  it  was  exceed- 
ingly interesting.  The  second  which  I  heard,  and 
which  I  think  was  the  ninth  of  his  course,  was  on 
the  geographical  distribution  of  fossil  organic  life. 
The  third,  which  was  his  twelfth  and  last,  was  the 
conclusion  of  what  he  had  to  say  on  the  same 
subject. 

"  In  this  lecture,  he  dwelt  on  the  geological  evi- 
dence of  the  comparatively  low  antiquity  of  the 
human  race.  In  adverting  to  the  question  in  re- 
gard to  the  probable  birth-place  of  mankind,  he 
remarked,  that  one  of  the  Humboldts,  from  the 
study  of  ethnography,  has  rendered  it  extremely 
probable  that  they  commenced  their  being  in  the 
northern  part  of  Asia.  In  closing,  he  recapitu- 
lated the  grounds  over  which  he  had  gone,  and  in- 
sisted that  the  causes  which,  in  the  course  of  long 
ages,  have  wrought  such  great  changes  in  both 
inorganic  and  organic  nature,  are  still  in  full  and 
undiminished  activity.  '  If  there  are  any,'  were 
very  nearly  his  words,  '  who  conclude  that  the 


MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

clock  has  stopped  because  they  are  not  able  to 
hear  its  ticking,  or  see  the  motion  of  the  hands 
upon  its  face,  it  is  because  their  observations  have 
not  extended  beyond  a  single  zoological  era ;  and 
though  the  earth  could  be  struck  out  of  existence 
in  a  moment  by  the  Power  that  formed  it,  it  wears 
'  no  proofs  of  decay  or  dissolution.' 

"  2.  During  the  winter,  I  prepared  and  delivered 
a  course  of  five  lectures  on  the  science  of  Geology, 
in  its  relations  to  natural  and  revealed  religion. 
They  cost  me  a  great  amount  of  labor,  but  the 
gratification  which  the  study  and  results  afforded 
was  a  sufficient  compensation.  The  second  lec- 
ture— on  fossil  organic  remains — I  delivered  be- 
fore the  Lynn  Nat.  Hist.  Society. 

"  3.  Some  four  weeks  since,  I  attended  the  Inau- 
guration of  Edward  Everett,  as  President  of  Har- 
vard University.  His  oration,  or  address,  I  re- 
garded, all  things  considered,  as  the  most  truly 
eloquent  production  to  which  I  ever  listened.  The 
ease,  grace,  and  appropriateness  of  his  manner 
were  perfectly  astonishing.  His  allusions  to  Web- 
ster, who  was  present,  drew  down  thundering  ap- 
plause. I  was  never  before  so  deeply  impressed 
with  the  sense  of  the  omnipotence  of  eloquence." 

His  4th  specification  refers  to  certain  proceed- 
ings had  by  the  friends  of  Rev.  Mr,  Smith,  his 


* 

MINISTRY   IN    LYNN.  97 

» 

predecessor,  to  obtain  the  church  for  him  to 
preach  in.  The  sum  of  its  effects  were  to  stir  up 
still  greater  excitement  and  division  in  the  So- 
ciety ;  though,  I  believe,  that  few,  if  any,  of  the 
more  influential  members  left  Sanford  to  join 
Smith.  He  then  proceeds  to  specification 

"  5.  Within  two  weeks,  a  war  has  broken  out 
between  Mexico  and  the  United  States,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  annexation  of  Texas  !  Most  sad  to 
think  of!  *  *  *  Our  Government  has  ap- 
propriated ten  millions  of  dollars,  and  ordered 
into  the  field  50,000  men,  to  carry  on  the  war. 
The  late  '  victory '  was  celebrated  among  us  by 
raising  the  American  flag  and  the  discharge  of 
cannon  ! !  0  God  !  may  these  bloody  scenes  have 
a  speedy  end !" 

"  Last  week,  besides  making  a  number  of  calls, 
I  wrote  two  sermons ;  one  on  '  Christ's  Sermon 
on  the  Mount ;'  the  other  on  '  The  Enemies  of 
Christ  put  under  his  Feet,'  reckoning  war  among 
the  number." 

"  June  19. — Yesterday  I  attended  the  services 
at  the  dedication  of  the  Universalist  Church,  in 
Beverly,  and  the  installation  of  Brother  J.  L.  Ste- 
vens, as  Pastor  of  the  Society.  Rev.  S.  Cobb 
gave  the  sermon  on  the  first  occasion,  and  Rev. 
H.  Ballou  2d  on  the  second.  Everything  seemed 
9* 


98  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

of  the  right  kind  until  Rev.  J.  Prince  came  to  give 
the  Address  to  the  Society,  when  a  whole  hour 
was  devoted  to  an  attack  upon  the  miraculous  in 
Christianity,  in  the  style  of  Parkerism,  as  the 
Americanized  system  of  German  Rationalism  is 
called  in  this  quarter.  To  say  nothing  of  the  er- 
roneousness  of  the  sentiments  he  advocated,  the 
effort  was  entirely  out  of  place,  and  was  plainly 
received  with  much  disapprobation.  When  he  got 
through,  Mr.  Ballou  arose,  and  in  a  very  decided, 
yet  kind  and  tender  manner,  expressed  his  dissent 
from  the  views  which  had  been  announced.  He 
probably  felt  under  stronger  obligation  to  do  so, 
from  the  fact  that  many  members  of  other  sects 
were  present." 

It  was  ascertained  during  the  summer  that  the 
pecuniary  affairs  of  the  Society  were  not  in  a  very 
flourishing  condition,  and  Sanford  addressed  it  a 
note  upon  the  subject,  expressing  his  suspicion 
that  much  of  this  was  owing  to  the  influence 
which  the  friends  of  his  predecessor,  Mr.  Smith, 
had  exerted. 

Two  or  three  meetings  were  held  to  consider  the 
subject,  and  the  result  is  found  in  the  following 
letter  :-— 

"  To  Rev.  Merritt  Sanford : 

"  At  an    adjourned  meeting  of  the  members 


MINISTRY    IN    LYNN.  99 

and  others,  who  desire  the  prosperity  of  the  First 
Universalist  Society,  held  after  Divine  service 
yesterday  afternoon,  the  following  Resolution  was 
adopted  by  ballot : — 

"  Resolved,  That  in  our  present  pastor  we  are 
united  ;  that  his  devotion  to  the  cause  and  to  the 
best  interests  of  the  Society  has  been  unceasing, 
while  the  present  condition  of  our  financial  con- 
cerns is  by  no  means  attributable  to  his  ministry, 
but  is  easily  traced  to  other  causes. 

"  Whole  number  of  ballots,     77 

"Yeas 66 

"Nays 11 

"  Voted,  That  the  Clerk  be  requested  to  for- 
ward to  Brother  Sanford  the  Resolution,  and  the 
vote  on  the  same. 

"  JAMES  M.  SARGEANT,  Clerk." 

This  was  early  in  October,  and  the  following  re- 
marks concerning  it  are  from  his  Journal : — 

"  Considering  all  things,  I  must  say  that  I  am 
somewhat  surprised  at  the  vote  in  my  favor,  it  is 
so  much  larger  than  when  I  was  called  to  the 
pastorship  of  the  Society.  On  ascertaining  the 
facts,  I  find  that  I  had  hardly  twenty  votes  in  the 
majority  at  that  time  ;  twenty-five  voting  for  Mr. 
Smith  on  the  last  ballot.  This  I  did  not  know 


100  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

then,  but  have  perceived  all  along  that  I  had  a 
strong  influence  to  work  against.  I  am  thankful 
to  Heaven  that  there  is  now  so  fair  a  prospect  of 
getting  rid  of  the  influence  of  his  dispensation.  I 
have  had  a  trial,  and  now  hope  to  come  forth  pu- 
rified." 

During  the  fall  he  succeeded  in  organizing  a 
church  in  connection  with  his  Society,  and  aided 
much  in  establishing  the  "  Lynn  Mechanics'  Ly- 
ceum," and  obtaining  a  course  of  lectures  for  the 
winter. 

"Jan.  1,  1847. — Another  New  Year !  Itseems 
but  as  yesterday  that  1846  commenced ;  and 
should  health  and  prosperity  continue,  1848  will 
come  before  we  are  aware  of  it.  But  it  is  of  lit- 
tle use  to  moralize.  To  act,  in  doing  something  of 
utility  or  virtue,  is  far  more  important." 

A  course  of  lectures  addressed  to  the  young 
was  prepared  and  delivered  through  the  winter, 
and  in  the  spring  he  commenced  the  study  of  the 
Latin  language,  aided  only  by  his  brother,  who 
came  to  reside  with  him  and  attend  school. 

He  also  preached  an  excellent  occasional  sermon 
before  the  Massachusetts  State  Convention,  and 
prepared  for  the  Universalist  Quarterly  an  able  and 
valuable  article  on  the  "  Archaeology  of  the  Earth 
and  its  Inhabitants." 


MINISTRY    IN    LYNN.  101 

''July  13. — Last  week  was  almost  wholly  giv- 
en to  the  study  of  Latin,  writing  but  about  one 
sermon.  In  Latin  I  am  making  rather  slow,  but, 
I  think,  sure  progress.  Have  just  got  fairly  into 
the  Reader.  I  like  it  very  much,  and  even  if  I 
did  not,  I  should  be  encouraged  to  proceed,  so 
strong  is  my  desire  to  be  able  to  read  a  few  rare 
and  important  works  in  the  language  ;  particularly 
Cicero's  De  Natura  Deorum  and  De  Finibis, 
and  Pliny's  Natural  History." 

"  19. — Brother  John  Moore  passed  last  night 
with  us,  having  preached  to  the  Second  Society 
yesterday.  It  is  believed  that  an  effort  is  making 
to  get  him  at  that  part  of  the  town.  For  the  So- 
ciety's sake,  I  could  wish  he  would  come,  but  for 
his  sake  I  could  desire  that  he  might  keep  away  !" 

In  September  he  wrote  another  admirable  arti- 
cle for  the  Universalist  Quarterly  on  the  Scripture 
Doctrine  of  Creation ;  and  in  the  early  part  of  Octo- 
ber announced  to  his  Society  that,  in  consequence 
chiefly  of  the  disadvantages  he  had  labored  un- 
der from  the  want  of  union  in  it,  and  the  oppo- 
sition he  still  had  to  meet  from  the  peculiar  friends 
of  Mr.  Smith,  it  was  his  intention  to  close  his  pas- 
toral labors  there  with  the  ending  of  the  year.  De- 
cember 26,  he  preached  his  farewell  sermon  in 
Lynn.  The  officers  of  the  Society  gave  him  a  very 


102  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

complimentary  letter,  and  he  continued  to  supply 
the  desk  during  the  winter  by  way  of  exchange. 
The  following  is  a  more  detailed  account  of  his 
reasons  for  leaving  there  : 

"The  causes  which  have  operated  to  bring 
about  the  close  of  my  labors  in  Lynn  may  be  said 
to  be  these  :  1.  The  love  of  novelty  and  change 
in  the  place.  For  this  Lynn  has  been  long  and 
widely  celebrated ;  and  after  living  here  three 
years,  I  am  able  to  say  that  it  has  come  honestly 
by  the  reputation.  The  people  are  quick  to  fall 
in  love  with  a  man,  and  equally  quick  in  falling  out 
of  it.  This  has  operated  to  make  the  stay  of  min- 
isters short. 

"  2.  The  peculiar  half- revolutionary  state  of  things 
in  the  Society,  as  left  by  my  predecessor.  And 
this,  in  my  view,  has  been  the  most  influential 
circumstance  of  all.  On  coming  here,  I  found  a 
large  number  who  were  not  only  greatly  in  favor 
of  his  infidel  radicalism,  but  seemed  to  feel  a  kind 
of  spite  toward  the  rest  of  the  Society  for  not 
joining  them  in  efforts  to  get  him  back.  This 
party  has  violently  opposed  me  ever  since  I  have 
been  here. 

"3.  In  some  instances  I  have  given  unintentional 
offence  in  my  preaching — in  disowning  some  views 
in  respect  to  the  future  state — maintaining  that 
death  produces  no  change  in  the  character,  and 


MINISTRY    IN    LYNN.  103 

that  man  enters  the  immortal  world  in  the  same 
moral  state  in  which  he  leaves  the  present  life. 
It  may  be  poor  policy  to  preach  this  doctrine,  but 
I  believe  that  duty,  that  principle,  requires  its  dis- 
tinct enunciation.* 

*  I  regret  to  say  that  misapprehension  seemed  to  exist 
in  some  minds  with  regard  to  the  ground  which  Mr.  San- 
ford  occupied  upon  this  subject.  The  writer  has  had  an  op- 
portunity of  knowing  something  of  his  views,  having  been 
very  intimate  with  him  from  his  youth  up.  Almost  his  entire 
religious  experience,  as  well  as  the  few  modifications  that  oc- 
curred in  his  opinions,  were  the  subject  of  frequent  and  un- 
reserved communication  between  us.  Most  of  these  modifica- 
tions I  have  already  hinted  at,  and  they  were  comparatively 
trifling  at  most.  True,  his  views  of  the  resurrection,  and  of 
the  moral  connection  between  the  present  and  the  future  state, 
differed  a  little  from  those  held  by  a  large  and  respectable  class 
in  the  denomination ;  and  it  is  equally  true  that  they  were 
very  nearly  in  agreement  with  those  held  by  another  class. 
Besides  the  means  of  information  derived  from  the  most  frank 
personal  correspondence,  I  have  examined  the  great  body  of 
his  manuscripts,  and  his  private  journal,  and  unhesitatingly 
affirm  that  he  was  a  strong,  unwavering  Univcrsalist.  I  nev- 
er heard  the  first  word  from  his  lips,  or  saw  the  first  from  his 
pen,  which  indicated  a  doubt  even  in  regard  to  a  single  point 
of  faith  that  the  Universalist  body  would  deem  of  very  great 
importance. 

I  make  these  remarks  not  only  because  I  deem  them  just,  but 
because  we  have  a  small  band  of  enemies — small  every  way — 
who  would  like  very  well  to  see  unpleasant  differences  among 
us.  One  of  them,  in  a  very  complimentary  notice  of  Sanford 
in  the  "  Christian  Herald,"  intimates  that,  "as  a  Theologian, 
he  was  regarded  by  some  of  bis  brethren  as '  rather  too  Ortho- 
dox.' " 


104  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

"  To  these  should  doubtless  be  added  two  other 
causes.  Some  have  not  liked  the  simplicity  of 
my  manner,  having  a  taste  for  a  more  noisy  style ; 
and  the  Society  has  labored  under  a  debt,  so  as  to 
render  it  difficult  to  meet  its  expenses." 

During  the  remainder  of  the  winter  he  pursued 
his  studies  with  unwearied  industry,  spending 
most  of  his  time  on  the  Latin.  He  found  great 
difficulty,  however,  from  the  want  of  a  regular  and 
competent  instructor ;  and  made  some  inquiries 
as  to  the  terms  on  which  he  could  spend  a  season 
in  Harvard  College. 

The  time  demanded  for  preparation,  however, 
was  greater  than  he  could  afford,  and  after  fol- 
lowing up  his  Latin,  with  such  aids  as  he  could 
obtain,  till  early  in  March,  he  took  hold  of  the 
Greek  with  the  most  indomitable  resolution.  The 
summer  was  almost  entirely  taken  up  with  the 
study  of  these  two  languages  ;  in  which,  consider- 
ing his  want  of  assistance,  he  made  rapid  prog- 
ress. 

He  had  reached  the  10th  book  of  theEneid,  and 
was  prepared  to  begin  the  Greek  Reader,  when, 
early  in  September,  he  left  with  his  wife  for  Ver- 
mont, where  they  spent  among  their  friends  some- 
thing over  two  months,  returning  to  Portland,  Ct., 
in  November,  to  spend  the  winter  with  his  father- 


MINISTRY    IN   LYNN.  105 

in-law,  and  prosecute  his  studies  there,  aided  by 
Rev.  Mr.  Emery,  the  Rector  of  the  Episcopal 
Church. 

"March  4th,  1849. — I  continue  steadily  at  work 
on  my  studies.  Have  recited  to  Mr.  Emery  twice 
a  week  for  two  months.  I  like  him  quite  well  as 
a  teacher,  though  I  continually  feel  that  he 'would 
be  of  greater  service  to  me  if  he  were  familiar 
with  Sophocles'  Grammar.  It  is,  this  week,  just 
a  year  since  I  commenced  in  Greek.  I  have  found 
it  hard  digging,  I  confess,  but  I  have  not  yet  had 
a  momentary  feeling  of  repentance  for  commencing 
it,  and  I  do  not  know  but  what  I  ought  to  be  sat- 
isfied with  my  progress.  In  Jacobs'  Reader  I 
have  read  72  pp.,  ending  with  '  Natural  History  ;' 
and  in  Arnold's  Greek  Composition,  I  have  ad- 
vanced 60  pp.,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  been  doing 
a  good  work  in  the  Grammar.  In  Latin,  I  have 
finished  Sallust,  and  just  commenced  on  Cicero's 
Select  Orations." 

But  his  time  on  earth  was  now  rapidly  drawing 
to  a  close.  Though  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect 
health,  and  ardently  engaged  in  acquiring  the 
means  of  still  greater  usefulness,  his  labors,  trials, 
and  enjoyments  here  were  about  over.  Early  in 
the  spring  he  had  made  engagements  with  the 
Universalist  Society  in  Warren,  Mass.,  to  assume 
10 


106  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 

its  pastoral  charge ;  and  while  preparing  to  re- 
move there,  was  exposed,  while  on  a  visit  to  Bos- 
ton, to  that  disease  he  had  so  long  dreaded — the 
measles.  Still  thinking  that  he  might  escape  an 
attack,  as  he  had  before  done  under  similar  ex- 
posures, he  made  no  mention  of  the  fact  to  his 
family  and  friends  in  Portland,  but  went  alone  to 
Warren,  where  he  was  taken  suddenly  on  Sunday, 
April  22d.  On  the  day  previous,  feeling,  as  he 
feared,  some  of  the  premonitory  symptoms  of  ill- 
ness, he  sent  for  his  wife,  who  arrived  the  same 
evening.  On  Sunday  he  became  delirious,  and 
remained  so  until  the  following  Thursday,  when 
he  expired.  His.  remains  were  taken  to  his  native 
town,  a  funeral  discourse  delivered  by  Rev.  H.  F. 
Ballou,  and  there,  amidst  the  scenes  of  his  child- 
hood, on  the  banks  of  that  little  streamlet  where 
he  had  then  played,  they  laid  him,  with  many 
tears,  to  sleep  by  the  side  of  his  early  wife  and 
child ! 

The  following  is  extracted  from  a  brief  notice  of 
his  death,  which  appeared  in  the  Trumpet  and 
Universalist  Magazine,  of  May  5th,  under  the 
editorial  care  of  Rev.  Thos.  Whittemore : — 

"  We  feel  no  ordinary  emotions  of  grief  in  an- 
nouncing the  death  of  Bro.  Merritt  Sanford,  late 
pastor  of  the  First  Universalist  Society  in  Lynn, 


HIS    DEATH.  107 

Mass.  *  *  *  *  He  was  a  man  of  sound  mind, 
a  fine  writer,  and  a  good  preacher.  He  died  at 
Warren,  Mass.,  on  Thursday  of  last  week  (26th 
April),  at  eleven  o'clock,  A.  M.,  in  the  37th  year 
of  his  age.  He  had  recently  entered  into  an  en- 
gagement to  preach  to  the  Universalist  Society  in 
that  town ;  and  after  supplying  the  pulpit  for  two 
or  three  Sundays,  he  was  attacked  by  a  very 
dangerous  disorder,  called  by  some  the  black 
measles.  He  was  sick  only  six  days.  The  best 
of  attention  was  paid  him  ;  it  was  not  in  the  power 
of  man  to  do  anything  more  than  was  done ;  but 
all  was  of  no  avail.  The  sickness  was  unto  death 
— the  hand  of  God  was  in  the  event.  Much  as 
we  regret  the  loss  of  our  beloved  friend  and  broth- 
er, and  much  as  we  feel  that  our  ministry  has 
been  deprived  of  one  of  its  brightest  ornaments, 
we  still  can  say,  '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord.' " 

The  following  extracts  are  taken  from  the  notice 
published  in  the  "  Christian  Herald" — the  organ, 
I  believe,  of  the  sect  of  Christians — and  to  which 
reference  was  made  in  a  note  on  a  previous 
page  :— 

"  The  death  of  Rev.  Merritt  Sanford,  for  two  or 
three  years  pastor  of  the  (1st)  Universalist  Society 


108  MEMOIR    OF    SANFORD. 


in  Lynn,  is  announced  in  the  Trumpet  of  last  week. 
*  *  *  *  I  was  acquainted  with  this  gentleman, 
and  cannot  but  mingle  a  tear  of  sympathy  with 
his  afflicted  companion  and  family  friends.  Mr. 
Sanford  was  a  gentleman  of  talent  and  general 
intelligence,  and  manifested  an  active  spirit  of 
philanthropy.  *  *  *  *  He  was  much  respected 
as  a  good  citizen  and  an  active  philanthropist  by 
his  neighbors  and  acquaintances  in  Lynn." 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  his  death  reached  his 
former  parishioners  in  Lynn,  it  called  out  the  fol- 
lowing earnest  and  warm  expression  of  their  sym- 
pathy and  respect  (I  quote  from  the  Trumpet)  r — 

"  BRO.  WHITTEMORE  : — At  the  close  cf  Divine 
service,  yesterday  afternoon,  the  following  pre- 
amble and  resolutions  were  unanimously  passed 
by  the  First  Universalist  Society  of  this  place  : — 

"  Whereas,  it  has  pleased  the  Universal  Fa- 
ther, in  the  plenitude  of  His  wisdom,  to  remove 
our  late  pastor  and  well-beloved  brother,  Merritt 
Sanford,  from  the  scene  of  his  earthly  labors,  to 
cut  him  down  in  the  midst  of  life,  and  an  extended 
sphere  of  usefulness :  Therefore, 

"  Resolved,  That  we  recognize  in  Bro.  Sanford 
one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  society  ;  a  faith- 
ful, talented,  and  useful  minister ;  a  tender  and 


HIS     DEATH.  109 

devoted  husband ;  and  an  affectionate  and  beloved 
brother  and  friend. 

"  Resolved,  That  we  cherish  his  memory  with 
sentiments  of  profound  esteem  and  affection,  that 
we  deeply  sympathize  with  his  afflicted  companion 
and  relatives  in  their  sad  bereavement,  and  tender 
to  them  the  assurance  of  our  sincere  sympathy  and 
condolence,  and  commend  them  to  that  Gospel 
which  he  both  preached  and  adorned  by  his  life, 
for  the  consolation  they  so  much  need  in  this  their 
hour  of  trial. 

"  Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions, 
signed  by  the  Trustees  and  Clerk  of  this  Society, 
be  forwarded  to  Mrs.  Sanford,  and  that  they  be 
published  in  the  '  Trumpet'  and  '  Christian  Free- 
man.' 

lt  GUSTAVUS  ATWILL, 


GEO.  W.  LORD, 
NATHL.  BLANCHARD, 
ALANSON  BURRILL, 


"Trustees. 


EDMUND  PERRY, 
C.  W.  TODD,  , 
JOB  C.  WAIT,  J 

"  JAMES  M.  SARGEANT,  Clerk." 
Thus  lived,  and  passed  away,  in  the  vigor  of 
early  manhood,  one  who  is  believed  to  have  had 
as  many  virtues  and  as  few  faults  as  can  well  be 
10* 


110  MEMOIR     OF     SANFORD. 

expected  from  our  frail  humanity.  "  And  I  heard 
a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto  me,  Write, 
Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord." 
Amea. 


:  V 


SERMONS. 


AFFLICTION. 

"  Although  affliction  cometh  not  forth  of  the  dust,  neither 
doth  trouble  spring  out  of  the  ground ;  yet  man  is  born  unto 
trouble,  as  the  sparks  fly  upward." — Job  v.,  6,  7. 

I  UNDERSTAND  by  this  language,  that  human  suf- 
fering is  not  accidental  but  natural ;  not  the  prod- 
uct of  chance,  but  the  appointment  of  the  Crea- 
tor ;  and  that,  severe  and  protracted  as  may  be 
man's  sufferings  in  the  furnace  of  affliction,  its  fires 
are  kindled  and  tempered  by  the  Hand  that  made 
him,  and  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  and  elevating 
his  nature. 

This  lesson  is  what  we  should  all  be  solicitous 
to  learn.  The  more  I  see  of  the  affairs  of  human 
life  ;  of  its  short  and  deceitful  pleasures,  and  of  the 
burdens  which  are  laid  upon  human  shoulders, 
the  deeper  is  my  conviction  that  man  knows  noth- 
ing— nothing  of  himself  and  of  the  true  end  of  his 
being,  till  he  has  learned  this  lesson — till  he  has 
learned  that  he  is  born  to  experience  the  trials  and 
sorrows  of  adversity,  as  well  as  the  ease  and  pleas- 


112  AFFLICTION. 

ure  of  prosperity ;  and  that  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  his  growth  and  welfare,  as  an  intellectual 
and  moral  being  ;  and  though  this  may  be  thought 
by  some  to  be  a  sad  reflection,  it  is  to  me  a  sad- 
der one,  that  his  nature  is  so  weak,  that  he  hardly 
ever  learns  this  lesson  until  fortune  frowns  upon 
him,  and  he  drinks  of  the  bitter  draught  which 
Providence  pours  into  the  cup  of  mortals.  And 
the  consideration  that  he  there  learns  this  truth ; 
that  he  generally  comes  forth  from  the  furnace 
with  higher  thoughts  and  purer  feelings,  removes 
all  sad  and  sorrowing  reflections  from  my  mind, 
and  enables  me  to  look  upon  all  the  pains  and 
groans  of  this  suffering  world  with  resignation, 
almost  with  joy.  My  experience,  I  know,  has  not 
been  long,  but  it  has  been  full  of  meaning.  The 
morning  of  my  days  was  bright  and  full  of 
promise.  The  heavens  were  garnished  with  stars, 
and  the  earth  was  strewed  with  flowers;  and  I 
walked  forth  in  the  vivacity  and  vigor  of  youth, 
looked  upon  the  beautiful  world  that  lay  before 
me,  and  I  more  than  half  said  to  myself,  "  These 
heavens  shall  never  lose  their  brightness ;  these 
flowers  shall  never  wither,  and  life  will  be  to  me 
an  unbroken  round  of  prosperity  and  felicity." 
The  word  adversity  I  indeed  read  in  books,  and 
my  teachers  told  me  that  this  is  a  world  which  is 


AFFLICTION.  113 

swept  by  the  storms,  and  visited  with  the  frosts  of 
disappointment  and  suffering  ;  but  that  word  I  did 
not  understand,  because  those  storms  and  frosts 
I  had  not  experienced.  Possessed  of  vigorous 
health  and  joyful  spirits,  and  surrounded  by 
friends  who  had  hung  over  my  cradle,  and  by  a 
least  OTIC  other  wlio  stood  ready  to  sacrifice  ca>  e 
and  even  life  to  my  comfort  and  welfare,  "  in  my 
prosperity,"  I  almost  said,  "  I  shall  never  be 
moved."  But  years  have  taught  me  another  les- 
son. Providence  has  told  me  what  meaning  there 
is  in  the  word  adversity.  The  heavens  have  been 
darkened  by  tempests,  and  the  earth  has  been 
rudely  swept  by  winds  and  storms.  The  tenderest 
and  strongest  ties  of  my  nature  have  been  sunder- 
ed, and  the  grave  has  closed  over  the  sweetest 
and  loveliest  beings  which  Heaven  has  yet  given 
me  "  to  bless  the  present  scene."  But,  thanks  to 
the  goodness  of  the  Creator,  and  to  the  influence 
of  the  Gospel  of  his  grace,  I  mourn  not  without 
hope.  For  a  while,  however,  I  thought  the  blow 
too  severe,  and  my  poor,  feeble  nature  almost 
sunk  beneath  the  load — though  there  was  no  pe 
riod  when  Christianity  did  not  speak  comfort  to 
my  troubled  heart  ;  but  I  can  now  say,  and  I  be- 
lieve without  exaggeiation,  that  "  it  is  good  for  me 
that  I  have  been  afflicted."  If  I  know  myself,  I 


114  AFFLICTION. 

have  acquired  new  strength,  and   the   most  valu- 
able strength,  from  the  burdens  which  have  been 
laid  upon  me.     I  have  been  led  to  think  more  of 
myself,  of  God,  and  of  Christianity,  and  to  feel 
more  the  ties  which  bind  me  to  my  race,  and  of 
the  obligations  under  which  I  am  placed  to  sym- 
pathize with  them,  and  try  to  minister  to  their 
welfare.     In  particular,  I  have  been  led  to  consider 
the  intentions  of  the  Creator  in  making  man  a  sub- 
ject of  suffering,  and  I  have  learned,  at  least  to  my 
satisfaction,  that  he  is  in  greater  danger  from  pros- 
perity than  he  is  from  adversity  ;  and  that  all  the 
sufferings  of  this  world  are  ordered  in  mercy,  and 
that  they  are  exercising  man's  powers,  elevating 
his  conceptions  and  feelings,  and  conducting  him 
onward  and  upward,  to  the  glory  and  perfection 
of  his  nature.     Accordingly,  I  now  look  upon  the 
world,  not,  indeed,  with  that  thoughtless  gayety 
and  pleasure  in  which  I  gazed  upon  it  in  earlier 
life,  but  with  higher  conceptions,  and,  I  will  say,  a 
sublimer  joy.     I  have  not  ceased  to  see  suffering 
around  me,  and  I  have  not  lost  a  heart  to  weep 
over  it ;  but  I  think  I  have  learned  its  purpose.     I 
see  it  in  the  hand  of  an  infinite  Father ;  and  I  see 
how  he  uses  it  to  discipline  and  elevate  his  chil- 
dren.    I  have  therefore  ceased  to  fear  it,  and  my 
only  concern  now  is,  that  I  may  bear  its  inflictions 


*!•* 

• 

AFFLICTION.  115 

with  patience,  and  with  a  clear  view  of  the  great 
purpose  for  which  it  is  administered. 

My  hearers  will  pardon  this  allusion  to  myself, 
because  it  is  made  not  only  to  give  you  a  short 
chapter  from  the  book  of  human  experience,  but 
to  hold  up  before  you  the  object  of  the  present  dis- 
course.    I  wish  to  teach  others  the  lessons  I  have 
learned.     Words,  I  know,  are  poor  things;  pre- 
cept, and  even  example,  are  often  powerless  in 
their  influence  ;  because  the  majority  of  mankind 
will  learn  wisdom  from  nothing  but  from  the  cold 
and  icy  hand  of  suffering.     And.  the  solemn  fact 
that  I  am  surrounded  by  sufferers,  that  there  are 
those  who  have  drank  of  the  bitter  waters  of  ad- 
versity, encourages  me  to  speak  ;  and  I  have  great 
hope  that  I  shall  succeed  in  my  efforts  to  convince 
such  that  the  ministry  of  affliction  is  the  ministry 
of  benevolence  ;  in  other  words,  I  have  hope  that 
such  will  bear  witness  that  I  am  not  dealing  in 
fiction,  or  mere  theory,  when  I  speak  of  the  bene- 
ficial influence  of  adversity.     The  pampered  and 
spoiled  children  of  worldly  prosperity,  those  who 
have  lived  in  perpetual  ease  and  pleasure,  and 
who  have  not  yet  been  made  to  wrestle  with  diffi- 
culty and  sorrow,  will  have  but  a  dull  ear  and  a 
doubting   heart   while  I  speak  on  this  subject, 
and  they  will  doubtless  think  it  an  unprofitable 


1 16  AFFLICTION. 

theme ;  but  I  am  sure  that  in  the  hearts  of  the 
suffering  and  the  unfortunate  there  are  cords 
which  will  vibrate  to  the  sentiments  which  I  utter, 
and  that  they  will  bless  God  for  making  this  world 
a  mixed  scene  of  pleasure  and  pain,  in  proportion 
as  they  have  weighed  and  felt  the  several  elements 
which  enter  into  the  composition  of  human  life. 

Of  the  fact  that  suffering  enters  largely  into  life, 
and  that  no  mortal  can  long  escape  the  approach 
of  adversity,  I  need  not  speak,  except  for  the 
information — if,  indeed,  they  will  receive  it — of  the 
young,  the  inexperienced,  or  the  thoughtless. 
This  world,  I  know,  is  a  good  one.  was  made 
by  a  Being  who  knew  what  he  was  about,  and  I 
doubt  not  that  his  wisdom,  directed  by  his  benevo- 
lence, has  adapted  all  its  parts  to  the  nature  and 
welfare  of  its  inhabitants.  I  look  upon  it,  not  as 
a  gloomy  prison,  filled  with  the  victims  of  divine 
hatred  and  wrath,  but  as  a  glorious  theatre,  occu- 
pied by  the  offspring  of  infinite  and  impartial 
goodness.  The  great  dramatist  has  well  said, 

"  All  the  world's  a  stage, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players  : 
They  have  their  exits,  and  their  entrances ; 
And  one  man,  in  his  time,  plays  many  parts." 

Ah  !  yes,  there  are  "  many  parts  "  played  in 


AFFLICTION.  117 

this  theatre  ;  and  he  who  has  not  learned  that 
tragedy,  as  truly  as  comedy,  enters  largely  into  its 
drama,  has  not  seen  more  than  the  first  scene.  As 
spring  is  the  most  lovely  season  in  the  year,  youth 
is  the  happiest  period  in  the  history  of  man.  Man- 
hood brings  its  cares,  and  old  age  its  burdens.  .  I 
have  no  disposition  to  induce  gloom  in  a  single 
mind,  by  holding  up  the  dark  side  of  life's  picture  ; 
but  we  had  better  see  the  truth,  if  it  is  not  so 
agreeable,  than  to  be  the  dupes  of  error.  I  give 
you  the  word  which  came  from  heaven,  and  which 
the  history  of  the  earth  has  confirmed.  "  The 
voice  said,  Cry.  And  he  said,  What  shall  I  cry  ? 
All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  goodliness  thereof  is 
as  the  flower  of  the  field ;  the  grass  withereth,  the 
flower  fadeth."  "  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman 
is  of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble.  He  cometh 
forth  like  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down ;  he  fleeth  also 
as  a  shadow,  and  continueth  not."  "  For  what  is 
your  life  ?  It  is  even  a  vapor,  that  appeareth  a 
little  while,  and  then  vanisheth  away."  "Men 
dwell  in  houses  of  clay  ;  their  foundation  is  in  the 
dust ;  they  are  crushed  before  the  moth."  "  One 
dieth  in  the  fullness  of  his  strength,  being  wholly 
at  ease  and  quiet.  His  breasts  are  full  of  milk, 
and  his  bones  moistened  with  marrow.  Another 
dieth  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  and  never  eateth 
11 


118  AFFLICTION. 

with  pleasure.  They  shall  lie  down  alike  in  the 
dust,  and  the  worms  shall  cover  them."  "The 
mighty  are  exalted  for^  a  little  while  ;  but  are  gone 
and  brought  low ;  they  are  taken  out  of  the  way 
as  all  others,  and  cut  off  as  the  tops  of  the  ears 
...of  corn."  "  My  days  are  swifter  than  a  weaver's 
shuttle."  "  I  know  that  thou  wilt  bring  me  to 
death,  and  to  the  place  appointed  for  all  living." 
"Man  goeth  to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners 
go  about  the  streets." 

Solemn  this  may  be,  my  friends,  but  it  is  true. 
The  history  of  six  thousand  years  has  proved  it. 
Disease,  pain,  and  death  have  preyed  upon  every 
form  that  has  trod  our  earth,  and  deposited  their 
ashes  in  its  bosom.  And  there  is  nothing  in  all 
this  world  which  is  permanent  and  unfading. 
There  is  no  dwelling,  no  palace,  though  its  foun- 
dation be  granite,  and  its  walls  be  adamant,  which 
shall  not  yield  to  the  touch  of  time,  and  be  laid 
even  with  the  ground.  And  there  is  no  family, 
sweet  and  strong  as  are  the  ties  which  bind  its 
members  together,  and  be  there  ever  so  much 
beauty  and  wealth,  which  will  not  be  separated  by 
the  hand  of  the  Destroying  Angel,  and  be  made 
the  common  food  of  the  worm  of  corruption. 

"  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 


AFFLICTION.  119 

Yea,  all  which  it  inhabit,  shall  dissolve,} 
And  like  this  unsubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  wreck  behind." 

And  what  is  the  cause  of  all  this  change,  de- 
cay, and  suffering  ?  A  cause  there  certainly  is, 
whether  man  find  it,  or  not,  and  whether  he  is 
satisfied  with  it,  or  not.  What  is  it?  Is  it 
chance?  Philosophy  tells  us  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  in  the  universe,  and  every  thinking 
mind,  it  would  seem,  must  grant  the  correctness 
of  her  conclusion.  Order,  design,  and  law — these 
are  written  all  over  creation.  He  who  does  not 
see  them  is  blind  to  everything  in  Nature,  and  he 
might  as  well  deny  the  existence  of  the  universe 
itself.  Every  form  of  inanimate  and  animate 
existence  has  its  distinct  and  appropriate  laws; 
and  where  there  is  law,  there  is  no  possibility  of 
chance.  It  would  be  as  proper  to  talk  of  a  discord 
in  a  harmony.  "  Nature  never  makes  mistakes," 
was  the  saying  of  a  wise  man  ;  and  the  reason  is, 
because  she  is  under  the  dominion  of  laws  through- 
out all  her  works.  If  she  produces  earthquakes 
and  volcanoes,  or  what  we  may  regard  as  dreadful 
accidents,  it  is  not  because  there  is  chance  in  her 
operations,  but  because  she  acts  in  obedience  to 
laws  beyond  our  feeble  comprehension.  And  it  is 
so  in  the  ruptures  and  sufferings  which  take  place 


120  AFFLICTION. 

in  human  life.  There  is  nothing  accidental — 
nothing  like  chance,  in  them.  Laws  preside  over 
them  all,  and  who  will  deny  that  they  take  place 
according  to  the  will  and  appointment  of  that  in- 
finite Lawgiver,  who  balanced  the  machinery  of 
the  universe,  and  gave  to  it  all  its  laws  ?  Perhaps 
I  shall  be  told  that  man's  afflictions  and  sufferings 
come  upon  him  for  disregarding,  or  transgressing, 
the  laws  of  the  Creator.  It  may  be  argued,  that 
every  law  of  God  is  benevolent  in  its  nature,  and 
that  it  has  enjoyment  for  its  object,  and,  conse- 
quently, that  all  human  suffering  results  from 
transgressing  the  laws  which  the  Creator  has 
established.  I  freely  admit  that  there  is  much 
philosophy,  much  truth,  in  this.  I  see  that  the 
young  die,  because  some  violence  is  done  to  the 
laws  of  their  existence ;  and  I  see  that  health  can 
be  promoted,  life  prolonged,  and  enjoyment  aug- 
mented, by  learning  and  obeying  the  laws  which 
are  interwoven  with  the  human  economy.  But 
may  we  not  look  further  ?  Who  made  these  laws, 
and  did  He  not  foresee  the  manner  iu  which  they 
would  be  treated  ?  Did  not  His  eye  run  along 
the  whole  course  of  humanity,  and  were  not  the 
transgressions,  which  would  result  from  the  action 
of  His  laws,  as  truly  present  to  His  mind  as  the 
laws  themselves  ?  And  if  so,  and  especially  as 


AFFLICTION.  121 

He  fixed  the  conditions  from  which  the  transgres- 
sions would  flow,  did  He  not  virtually  ordain 
them,  and  absolutely  provide  for  their  results  ?  I 
see  not  how  an  affirmative  answer  to  these  ques- 
tions can  be  avoided.  And  there  is  another  view 
to  be  taken  of  this  matter.  God  could  have  or- 
dained all  the  changes,  afflictions,  separations,  and, 
if  you  please,  all  the  transgressions,  which  take 
place  among  men,  without  the  production  of  pain, 
sorrow,  and  lamentation,  had  He  so  willed.  He 
could  have  given  man  nerves  of  iron  and  a  heart 
of  stone,  so  that  he  could  have  passed  through  all 
life's  changes  without  feeling  the  touch  of  pain, 
and  buried  his  kindred,  and  gone  himself  down  to 
the  gates  of  death,  without  shedding  a  tear  or 
heaving  a  sigh.  But  He  did  not  so  will — He  has 
not  so  done.  He  has  given  man  both  a  frame  and 
a  soul,  which  are  tenderly  alive  at  every  pore. 
His  physical  powers  and  sensations  are  far  more 
tender  and  acute  than  those  of  the  brute  creation 
below  him,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  he  knows 
more  of  disease,  pain,  and  suffering.  And  then, 
think  of  his  mental  sensibility,  and  mental  sorrow. 
0  !  how  many  and  deep  are  the  fountains  which, 
easily  disturbed,  send  forth  bitter  waters  from 
within  him  !  His  reason,  how  often  is  it  mocked 
in  its  attempts  to  rise  to  the  comprehension  of 
11* 


122  AFFLICTION. 

truth,  and  sinks  back  upon  itself,  in  doubt,  in 
darkness,  sometimes  in  despair  !  His  social  feel- 
ings— feelings  which  require  him  to  seek  the 
companionship  and  love  of  his  race,  and  bind  him 
in  bonds  of  gentleness  to  his  kindred  and  friends : 
alas  !  how  often  are  they  made  to  bleed  over  un- 
requited love,  over  disappointment  and  bereave- 
ment !  His  moral  affections — affections  which 
give  him  ideas  of  right  and  duty,  of  justice  and 
benevolence, — how  they  plead  with  him  to  keep 
on  the  even  tenor  of  his  way,  and  go  not  in  the 
path  of  sin,  and  how  do  they  upbraid  him  and 
torment  him,  when  he  finds  himself  in  the  way  of 
evil !  And  his  religious  instincts  and  aspirations — 
instincts  and  aspirations  which  impel  him  to  seek 
and  feel  after  his  Maker,  "  if  haply  he  might  find 
Him,"  and  to  look  upward  to  a  happy  immortality 
as  the  true  end  and  good  of  his  being, — and  how 
they  minister  to  his  inward  pain,  and  degradation, 
and  despair,  even  when  he  does  not  find  the  true 
God,  and  the  hope  of  a  blissful  future  !  And  in  his 
present  natural  state  of  imperfection  and  weak- 
ness, how  can  he  avoid  these  errors,  and  free  him- 
self from  all  these  unhappy  results  ? 

Here,  then,  we  find  that  reason  and  nature  join 
revelation  in  teaching  that  affliction,  adversity, 
suffering,  has  its  origin  in  the  will  and  appointment 


AFFLICTION.  123 

of  God.  There  is  nothing  accidental,  and  nothing 
merely  mechanical  or  material  in  its  cause.  "Afflic- 
tion cometh  not  forth  of  the  dust,  neither  doth 
trouble  spring  out  of  the  ground."  Its  fires  are 
kindled  by  the  hand  of  the  Maker.  "  Man  is  born 
unto  trouble,  as  the  sparks  fly  upward."  It  is  the 
natural  result  of  the  nature  which  is  conferred 
upon  him,  and  it  is  an  essential  element  in  the 
purpose  of  his  being.  In  giving  him  his  acute 
sensations  and  exquisite  sensibilities,  God  has 
opened,  so  to  speak,  fountains  of  pain  and  sorrow 
in  every  fibre  and  pore  of  his  physical  and  mental 
nature ;  and  the  changes  and  reverses  of  Providence 
with  which  he  has  diversified  the  journey  which 
he  takes  in  his  passage  through  this  nether  world, 
doubly  proves  that  his  afflictions  and  sufferings  are 
ordained  by  the  Being  that  made  him. 

This  brings  us  to  the  main  business  of  the  pres- 
ent discourse — to  inquire  into  the  object  or  pur- 
pose for  which  man  is  made  a  subject  of  affliction 
and  suffering.  Why  has  God  opened  inlets  of 
pain  and  sorrow  within  him,  and  why  does  He  lead 
him  through  so  many  difficulties,  trials,  and  suf- 
ferings ?  This  is  a  great,  though  a  very  natural 
question.  The  sufferer  has  asked  it,  as  he  has 
turned  himself  in  agony  upon  the  bed  of  sickness  ; 
and  the  philosopher  has  asked  it,  as  he  has  sur- 


124  AFFLICTION. 

veyed  the  world,  and  beheld  the  sufferings  which 
abound  in  it. 

If  we  turn  to  the  Scriptures  for  an  answer,  we 
get  one  which  is  at  once  worthy  the  character  of 
God  and  the  reception  of  man.  We  are  there  told, 
on  almost  every  page,  that  man  is  visited  with  suffer- 
ing, not  to  gratify  and  satiate  the  hatred  and  wrath 
of  his  Maker,  nor  because  he  is  doomed  to  bear  the 
evils  of  his  state  for  the  sin  of  his  first  parents,  but 
to  quicken  and  elevate  his  own  nature — to  dis- 
cipline and  strengthen  his  intellectual  and  moral 
powers,  and  to  give  him  moral  energy  and  spiritual 
perfection  through  its  severe  and  faithful  ministry. 
"  Our  light  afflictions,  which  are  but  for  a  moment, 
work  out  a  far  more  exceeding,  eternal  weight  of 
glory."  "  No  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth 
joyous,  but  grievous ;  nevertheless,  afterward  it 
yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness  unto 
them  who  are  exercised  thereby."  "  Ye  shall 
weep  and  lament,  but  your  sorrow  shall  be  turned 
into  joy."  "  They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in 
joy."  "  Weeping  may  endure  for  the  night,  but  joy 
cometh  in  the  morning."  I  need  not  multiply  these 
divine,  sweet  assurances.  They  are  scattered  over 
the  whole  field  of  revelation,  and  every  one  who 
has  made  himself  familiar  with  the  sacred  writings 
will  bear  me  witness,  that  the  cause  of  affliction  is 


AFFLICTION.  125 

there  always  ascribed  to  the  goodness  of  God  and 
to  his  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  creatures,  and 
that  it  is  declared  to  be  inflicted  for  the  purpose 
of  correcting  and  elevating  them. 

Can  we  learn  this  lesson,  my  friends  ?  From 
observation,  experience,  and  reflection,  can  we  so 
lift  up  our  thoughts,  that  we  can  see  the  goodness 
of  God  in  His  making  man  a  child  of  sorrow,  and 
kiss  the  rod  when  we  bear  its  stripes  ?  So  weak 
is  our  nature,  we  may  not  be  able  to  do  this  in 
every  instance  of  suffering  which  we  witness  or 
experience ;  but,  if  we  will  withdraw  our  minds 
from  the  glare  and  noise  of  the  world,  and  think 
of  the  condition  of  human  nature,  and  of  the  rela- 
tive influence  of  prosperity  and  of  adversity  upon 
it,  I  am  sure  we  shall  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
affliction  is  as  the  refiner's  fire  to  silver  in  its  in- 
fluence on  man,  and  we  shall  see  reasons  for  bless- 
ing God  in  his  darkest  dispensations. 

The  common  argument  in  vindication  of  the 
goodness  of  God  in  human  suffering  is,  that  the 
amount  of  enjoyment  is  greater  than  that  of  pain. 
This  is  a  good  argument,  because  it  is  founded  in 
truth.  Yes ;  it  is  a  glorious  truth,  that,  great  and 
trying  as  are  the  pains  and  sorrows  of  this  world, 
the  amount  of  happiness  is  far,  almost  infinitely, 
greater.  For  one  tear  there  are  a  thousand  smiles, 


126  AFFLICTION. 

and  for  one  day  of  mourning  there  are  whole  years 
of  rejoicing.  There  is  so  much  truth  in  this,  that 
when  we  hear  the  notes  of  gladness  and  enjoy- 
ment, they  scarcely  fix  our  attention,  they  are  so 
common ;  and  when  we  hear  the  tones  of  sadness 
and  suffering,  we  turn  that  way  with  wonder  and 
surprise,  so  uncommon  in  the  aggregate  are  such 
tones  in  the  music  of  this  world's  experience. 
Happiness  is  the  rule,  misery  the  exception.  This 
is  a  verity,  and  it  clearly  demonstrates  the  good- 
ness of  the  Creator  and  Ruler  of  our  world.  But 
still,  there  is  suffering  in  it.  It  has  written  its  lines 
on  almost  every  countenance.  Its  wails  come  to  us 
from  the  mourning,  and  its  groans  from  the  dying. 
How  can  God  be  good  in  permitting  or  sending  it  ? 
My  friends,  this  has  been  deemed  a  very  hard  ques- 
tion, but  I  think  we  can  all  easily  answer  it,  if  we 
will  look  into  the  nature  of  the  being  who  is  the 
sufferer.  What  is  the  purpose  of  his  being  ?  Not 
merely  to  enjoy,  but  to  grow — to  advance  in  knowl- 
edge and  virtue,  to  develop  his  intellectual  and 
moral  powers,  and  to  rise  to  true  greatness — the 
greatness  of  moral  excellence,  by  an  exposure  to 
difficulty,  danger,  and  suffering.  I  suppose  that 
God  could  have  made  the  trees  and  the  rocks 
happy,  and  filled  every  pore  of  them  with  enjoy- 
ment, but  I  know  not  how  he  could  have  made 


AFFLICTION.  127 

man  a  being  of  intellectual  and  moral  value — in 
other  words,  how  he  could  have  raised  up  a  being 
from  nothingness  and  dust  to  the  heights  of  knowl- 
edge and  moral  excellence,  without  subjecting  him 
to  danger,  hardship,  and  suffering.  He  could,  as 
he  does,  make  him  innocent,  without  this  severe 
process,  but  not  virtuous.  Virtue,  moral  excel- 
lence— the  true  end  and  glory  of  man,  is  not  a 
communicated  thing  :  it  is  the  mind's  own  act  and 
work,  and  it  is  in  the  field  of  trial,  and  conflict,  and 
sorrow,  that  it  is  formed. 

The  world  thinks  little  of  it,  but  it  is  true,  that 
man's  true  glory  fades  and  dies, — or  it  would  fade 
and  die,  in  the  perpetual  sunshine  of  favor  and 
enjoyment.  Prosperity, — alas  !  the  prosperity 
that  he  courts  so  much,  kills  him.  He  cannot 
bear  it.  Give  him  wealth,  and  he  becomes  proud. 
Give  him  power,  and  he  corrupts  it,  aye,  corrupts 
himself,  and  tyrannizes  over  his  species.  But  God 
knows  how  to  humble  him.  God  understands  his 
frame,  he  remembers  that  he  is  dust,  and  he  visits 
him  with  reverses,  trials,  conflicts,  bereavements, 
sufferings.  And  what  do  they  do  to  him  ?  Fre- 
quently they  make  his  heart  stoop,  indeed,  and  in 
a  few  cases,  we  grant,  they  crush  him  to  the  earth, 
but  they  constitute  a  burden  which  it  is  good  for 
him  to  bear.  They  exercise  his  powers,  and  there- 


128  AFFLICTION. 

by  multiply  his  strength ;  they  arouse  his  atten- 
tion to  a  thoughtfulness  and  study  of  his  condition 
and  true  interests,  humble  his  pride,  subdue  his 
stubbornness,  chasten  and  refine  his  social  and 
moral  feelings,  giving  him  a  heart  more  alive  to 
the  wants  of  his  fellow-pilgrims,  and  more  ready 
to  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice,  and  to  weep  with 
them  that  weep,  and  schooling  his  whole  nature 
to  the  love  of  that  virtue  and  the  observance  of 
those  laws  which  are  the  true  end  and  real  good 
of  his  being. 

Be  patient,  my  hearers,  yet  a  little  while,  and  I 
will  specify  and  briefly  illustrate  some  of  the  par- 
ticular benefits  which  flow  to  mankind  from  the 
influence  of  adversity.  There  is  no  need  that  I 
speak  of  the  blessings  of  prosperity,  because 
these  are  comprehended  ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy 
for  men  to  see  that  adversity  teems  with  bless- 
ings to  the  children  of  men,  and  therefore  there 
may  be  need  that  a  word  or  two  be  spoken  in  their 
behalf. 

1.  Adversity  does  much  for  the  acquirement 
and  promotion  of  knowledge.  Mankind  have  a 
natural  love  of  ease,  and  were  it  not  for  the  influ- 
ence of  pain  and  suffering,  they  would  be  a  race 
of  stupid,  ignorant,  degraded  creatures.  The  ter- 
rible fury  of  the  tornado  and  the  awful  noise  of 


/ 

AFFLICTION.  129 

the  earthquake  may  be  thought  to  be  dreadful  dis- 
cords in  the  music  of  nature,  but  if  we  had  an  ear 
which  took  in  all  the  sounds  which  make  up  the 
great  harmony  of  the  universe,  we  should  doubt- 
less understand  that  the  most  fearful  tones  are,  we 
might  say,  the  most  necessary,  inasmuch  as  they 
are  the  only  effectual  means  by  which  mankind 
can  be  kept  awake  to  their  true  good.  If  we 
should  look  over  the  history  of  nations,  we  could 
hardly  fail  to  discover  that  the  fearful  judgments 
and  calamities  which  Providence  has  brought 
down  upon  them,  have  had  a  mighty  influence  on 
them  for  good,  in  calling  the  attention  of  the  peo- 
ple to  their  real  condition,  and  in  causing  them  to 
use  the  means  in  their  power  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  sources  of  greatness  and  happiness. 
And  we  can  all  see  that  this  is  the  effect  of  adver- 
sity in  the  common  walks  of  life.  How  often  do 
we  see  the  thoughtless  and  the  giddy  turned  into 
serious  and  anxious  inquirers  after  the  path  of  vir- 
tue and  the  light  of  hope, — by  some  instance  of  suf- 
fering, by  the  approach  of  sickness  or  death  !  And 
how  much  would  our  physicians  and  physiologists 
have  known  of  the  human  frame,  and  of  the  laws 
which  govern  the  human  system,  if  there  had  been 
no  disease  and  pain  ?  Very  little — very  little  in- 
deed, in  our  opinion.  The  fact  is,  and  it  is  one 
13 


130  AFFLICTION. 

which  should  lead  us  to  see  a  grand  purpose  in  the 
existence  of  suffering  in  the  present  system,  that 
the  whole  stock  of  knowledge  which  modern 
science  gives  of  the  nature  of  man  has  grown  out 
of  his  sufferings ;  for  had  he  not  suffered,  there 
could  have  been  no  motive,  higher  than  curiosity, 
to  study  his  nature,  and  his  sufferings  have  answer- 
ed the  purpose  of  revealing  the  laws  and  purposes 
of  his  nature,  in  the  same  way  that  the  laws  of 
anything  are  most  visibly  revealed  by  the  conse- 
quences which  follow  a  departure  from  them. 

One  purpose,  then,  for  which  suffering  is  inflict- 
ed upon  man,  is  to  keep  him  from  mental  stupidi- 
ty, to  fix  and  confine  his  attention  on  serious  and 
important  matters,  and  thereby  to  increase  the 
amount  of  his  knowledge  ;  and  could  we  see  how 
much  has  been  done  for  both  the  progress  of 
science  and  the  progress  of  Christianity  by  the  in- 
fluence of  pain  and  sorrow,  we  should  thank  God 
that  he  sends  storms  as  well  as  the  sunshine. 

2.  Adversity  does  much  for  the  cultivation  of 
the  social  affections  and  virtues.  Indeed,  afflic- 
tion is  the  only  school  in  which  these  divine  plants 
can  have  a  healthy  growth  and  come  to  perfection. 
Enter  the  most  virtuous  family  where  there  has 
been  nothing  but  prosperity, — where  abundance, 
health,  and  almost  unbroken  enjoyment  have  reign- 


AFFLICTION.  131 

ed, — and  you  will  find  a  good  degree  of  order  and 
peace,  indeed,  but  you  would  find  also,  if  you  have 
eyes  which  can  penetrate  the  surface  of  things, 
fretful  and  irritable  dispositions — an  easy  willing- 
ness to  find  fault  and  pass  condemnation,  and  very 
little  will  be  known  of  the  highest  social  virtues, 
such  as  pity,  compassion,  and  forbearance.  But 
let  the  angel  of  adversity  visit  that  family,  and  lay 
one  of  its  members  upon  the  bed  of  sickness,  and 
a  diviner  influence  will  immediately  commence  its 
work  among  them.  All  their  little  rivalries,  con- 
tentions, and  animosities  will  be  hushed,  repented 
of,  and  forgiven,  and  they  will  watch  with  breath- 
less anxiety  around  the  couch  of  the  sufferer,  to 
see  if  they  cannot  do  something  to  relieve  or  com- 
fort him,  if  it  be  no  more  than  to  show  him  that 
their  hearts  beat  in  pain  with  his ;  and  whether  he 
lives  or  dies,  they  will  derive  from  this  scene  a 
spirit  which  will  be  of  greater  benefit  to  them  than 
a  whole  lifetime  of  ease  and  pleasure.  There 
will  be  more  tenderness  and  strength  in  their 
affections,  a  greater  readiness  to  feel  each  other's 
sorrows,  and  to  minister  to  each  other's  welfare, 
and  a  deeper  and  broader  sympathy  toward  their 
neighbors.  And  so  it  is,  not  with  one  family 
merely,  but  all  over  the  world.  The  social  virtues 
do  not  thrive  in  the  sunshine  of  continual  prosperi- 


132  AFFLICTION. 

ty.  Peevishness,  pride,  and  hatred  will  grow  there 
in  rich  abundance  ;  but  if  you  would  seek  for  sweet 
and  strong  sympathies,  for  hearts  quick  to  feel 
every  want  and  weep  over  every  pain,  and  for  all 
the  offices  of  tenderness,  compassion,  and  undying 
love,  go  where  adversity  has  reigned — where 
darkness  hath  brooded — where  storms  have  raged 
— where  frosts  have  blighted,  and  done  dreadful 
havoc  with  beauty,  and  loveliness,  and  affection. 
In  this  spirit  the  great  Spurzheim  chose  for  his 
wife  a  woman  who  had  experienced  great  suffering, 
believing  that  her  social  nature  had  been  refined 
and  exalted  by  what  she  had  suffered;  and  the 
result  verified  the  correctness  of  his  opinion.  And 
we  are  certified  that  suffering  was  one  of  the  ele- 
ments in  forming  the  perfection  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
for  it  is  written,  "  The  Captain  of  our  salvation  was 
made  perfect  through  suffering."  And  should  we 
expect  to  become  perfect  in  either  social  or  moral 
virtue,  without  suffering  ?  No,  we  cannot  spare 
the  influence  of  pain,  bereavement,  and  sorrow.  If 
we  truly  know  ourselves,  we  would  rather  spare 
everything  else.  The  voices  which  speak  to  us  in 
the  sick  chamber  and  in  the  grave-yard,  are  solemn 
indeed,  but  they  breathe  an  influence  which  is 
stronger  in  behalf  of  virtue  than  all  the  other  voices 
which  we  hear.  For  what  is  the  language  which 


AFFLICTION.  133 

they  convey  to  the  heart  ?  What  sentiments  do  we 
derive  from  communion  with  the  sick  and  with  the 
dead  ?  Ah  !  slow  as  the  young  and  the  thought- 
less are  to  believe  it,  they  are  rich  in  meaning  and 
purifying  in  their  influence.  Who  can  witness  a 
fellow-being  wasting  away  under  some  loathsome 
disease,  without  feeling  a  deeper  sentiment  of  pity 
and  compassion  toward  his  feeble,  erring,  and 
suffering  race ;  and  who  can  follow  the  cold  re- 
mains of  a  neighbor,  a  friend,  or  even  an  enemy, 
to  the  silent  resting-place  of  our  poor  mortality, 
without  deep  and  moving  thoughts,  and  without 
purer  and  better  feelings  toward  both  the  dead 
and  the  living  ?  We  pity  the  man, — from  our 
very  hearts  we  pity  him, — for  his  hardness  of  heart 
we  pity  him,  who  can  visit  the  chamber  of  sick- 
ness, or  stand  over  the  fresh  grave  of  the  fallen, 
and  harbor  an  unkind  thought  or  a  hard  feeling 
toward  a  single  being  which  wears  .the  human  form, 
even  though  he  has  enemies  which  have  tried  to 
do  him  injury.  "  Truth  should  be  there  felt  and 
taught,  in  the  silence  of  meditation,  more  persua- 
sive, and  more  enduring,  than  ever  flowed  from 
human  lips.  The  grave  hath  a  voice  of  eloquence 
which  speaks  at  once  to  the  thoughtlessness  of  the 
rash,  and  the  devotion  of  the  good  ;  which  address- 
es all  times,  and  all  ages,  and  all  sexes ;  which 
12* 


134  AFFLICTION. 

tells  of  wisdom  to  the  wise,  and  of  comfort  to  the 
afflicted ;  which  warns  us  of  our  follies  and  our 
dangers  :  which  whispers  to  us  in  accents  of  peace, 
or  alarms  us  in  tones  of  terror ;  which  steals  with 
a  healing  balm  into  the  stricken  heart,  and  lifts  up 
and  supports  the  broken  spirit ;  which  awakens 
a  new  enthusiasm  for  virtue,  and  disciplines  us  for 
its  severer  trials  and  duties  ;  which  calls  up  the 
images  of  the  illustrious  dead,  with  an  animating 
presence,  for  our  example  and  glory ;  and  which 
demands  of  us,  that  the  powers  given  by  God 
should  be  devoted  to  his  service,  and  that  the 
mind,  created  by  his  love,  should  return  to  him 
with  larger  capacities  for  virtuous  enjoyment,  and 
with  more  spiritual  and  intellectual  brightness."* 

3.  Adversity  does  much  also  for  the  cultivation 
of  piely  ;  by  which  I  mean,  gratitude  and  resig- 
nation toward  God.  I  confess  that  I  once  thought 
this  impossible.  I  looked  upon  prosperity  and 
continuous  enjoyment  as  the  means  of  giving  man- 
kind confidence  in  the  goodness  of  their  Maker, 
and  of  kindling  their  hearts  into  gratitude  and 
love  toward  him.  But  observation  and  experience 
have  led  me  to  a  different  conclusion,  and  I  say, 
in  the  language  of  another,  "  The  most  sceptical 
men,  the  most  insensible  to  God's  goodness,  the 

*  Story. 


AFFLICTION. 

most  prone  to  murmur,  rfay  be  found  among 
those  who  are  laden  above  all  others  with  the 
goods  of  life,  whose  cup  overflows  with  prosperi- 
ty, and  who,  by  an  abuse  of  prosperity,  have  be- 
come selfish,  exacting,  and  all  alive  to  inconve- 
niences and  privations.  These  are  the  cold-hearted 
and  the  doubting.  If  I  were  to  seek  those  whose 
conviction  of  God's  goodness  is  faintest  and  most 
easily  disturbed,  I  would  seek  them  in  the  palace 
sooner  than  in  the  hovel.  •  I  would  go  to  the  luxu- 
rious table,  to  the  pillow  of  ease,  to  those  among 
us  who  abound  most,  to  the  self- exalting,  the  self- 
worshiping,  not  to  the  depressed  and  forsaken. 
The  profoundest  sense  of  God's  goodness  which  it 
has  been  my  privilege  to  witness,  I  have  seen  in 
the  countenance  and  heard  from  the  lips  of  the 
suffering.  I  have  found  none  to  lean  on  God  with 
such  filial  trust,  as  those  whom  he  has  afflicted. 
I  doubt,  indeed,  if  true1  gratitude  and  true  confi- 
dence ever  spring  up  in  the  human  soul,  until  it 
has  suffered.  A  superficial,  sentimental  recogni- 
tion of  God's  goodness  may  indeed  be  found 
among  those  who  have  lived  only  to  enjoy.  But 
deep,  strong,  earnest  piety  strikes  root  in  the  soil 
which  has  been  broken  and  softened  by  calamity. 
And  such,  I  believe,  is  the  observation  of  every 


136  AFFLICTION. 

man  who  has  watched  the  progress  of  human 
character."* 

I  might  speak  of  the  beneficial  influence  of  ad- 
versity in  another  respect.  I  might  show  how 
the  dark  dispensations  of  Providence  teach  man- 
kind the  value  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  how 
disappointment  and  bereavement  give  them  a 
relish  for  those  streams  of  life  and  peace  which 
make  glad  the  city  of  Zion.  I  might  ask  you  to 
go  to  the  dark  chamber  of  sickness,  or  the  darker 
chamber  of  death,  where  a  beloved  form  is  dressed 
in  its  last  robes,  and  where  the  bereaved  hang 
over  it  and  weep  with  groanings  which  cannot  be 
uttered  ;  and  I  might  show  you  that  in  such  scenes 
— scenes  which  we  must  all  witness,  the  voice  of 
the  Gospel,  which  speaks  of  a  glorious  immortality 
beyond  the  grave,  and  which  brings  the  assurance 
that  all  these  afflictions  will  be  overruled  for  good, 
and  terminate  in  greater  purity  and  more  substan- 
tial happiness,  is  sweeter  to  the  ear  than  honey  to 
the  taste ;  and  you  could  not  fail  to  conclude  that 
though  men  may  neglect  and  even  ridicule  the 
Gospel  while  they  are  in  the  gayety  and  sunshine 
of  prosperity,  their  folly  is  rebuked,  and  they  are 
made  to  see  that  it  is  more  precious  than  ten 
thousand  worlds,  when  the  darkness  of  affliction 
*  Charming. 


AFFLICTION.  137 

and  death  settles  around  them.  But  I  must  not 
speak  on  this  subject.  I  have  already  drawn  too 
liberally  upon  your  time,  if  not  upon  your  patience. 
And  I  have  done  what  I  undertook.  I  have  given 
you  my  thoughts  on  the  reality,  origin,  and  end  of 
human  suffering.  To  reconcile  all  the  mysteries 
which  hang  about  this  great  subject,  and  vindi- 
cate all  God's  ways  in  his  dark  dispensations,  I 
have  not  had  the  folly  to  attempt.  This  is  not 
my  business.  God  will  take  care  of  his  <5wn  ways, 
and  in  due  time  he  will  vindicate  the  goodness 
thereof  to  every  creature,  whether  I  comprehend 
it  or  not.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  know  that  the 
mixed  elements  of  my  lot  are  under  the  direction 
of  a  kind  and  good  Being,  and  that  the  sufferings 
which  I  am  called  to  endure  are  ordained  in  mercy, 
and  have  for  their  end  the  purification  and  eleva- 
tion of  my  nature.  And  I  have  found  this  grand 
truth  in  the  teachings  of  Revelation  and  in  the  les- 
sons of  experience.  I  cannot  doubt  it.  I  see, 
every  day  of  my  life,  that  man  cannot  bear  con- 
tinual prosperity ;  that  it  corrupts  him,  makes 
him  proud,  peevish,  overbearing,  selfish,  and  sen- 
sual, and  would  blot  out  his  true  glory  ;  and  I  see 
that  it  is  the  sublime  purpose  of  adversity  to 
check  and  humble  his  pride,  to  give  him  serious 
thoughts  and  tender  feelings,  to  discipline  and 


138  AFFLICTION. 

strengthen  his  social  and  moral  powers,  and  thus 
to  lead  him  forth  to  righteousness  and  victory.  I 
bless  God,  therefore,  for  the  storm,  as  well  as  for 
the  sunshine — for  suffering,  as  well  as  for  enjoy- 
ment. I  pretend  not  to  see  his  goodness  in  every 
instance  and  form  in  which  it  is  inflicted,  but  I 
should  not  dare,  had  I  the  power,  to  stretch  forth 
my  hand  to  lessen  its  amount,  in  the  present  state 
of  human  nature.  Man  needs  its  swe.et  but  saluta- 
ry influence.  "  Favor,"  even  in  fortune,  "  is  deceit- 
ful," and  leads  ten  thousands  in  ruinous  paths  ;  but 

"  This  is  no  flattery ;  these  are  counselors 
That  feelingly  persuade  me  what  I  am. 
Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity ; 
Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head." 

Let  man,  then,  conclude  with  the  poet : 

"  What,  then,  am  II 

Amidst  applauding  worlds, 
And  worlds  celestial,  is  there  found  on  earth 
A  peevish,  dissoriant,  rebellious  string, 
Which  jars  in  the  grand  chorus,  and  complains  1 

All,  aH  is  right,  by  God  ordained  or  done  ; 
And  who,  but  God,  resumed  the  friends  he  gave  1 
And  have  I  been  complaining,  then,  so  long  1 
Complaining  of  his  favors,  pain  and  death  1 
Who,  without  pain's  advice,  would  e'er  be  good  1 
Who,  without  death,  but  would  be  good  in  vain  1 


AFFLICTION.  139 

Pain  is  to  save  from  pain ;  all  punishment 

To  make  for  peace  ;  and  death  to  save  from  death. 

********* 
Heaven  gives  us  friends  to  bless  the  present  scene  ; 
Removes  them,  to  prepare  us  for  the  next. 
All  evils  natural  are  moral  goods ; 
All  discipline  indulgence,  on  the  whole. 


Great  God  of  wonders  ! 

What  rocks  are  these  on  which  to  build  our  trust ! 
Thy  ways  admit  no  blemish ;  none  I  find  ; 
Or  this  alone, — that  none  is  to  be  found  : 
Not  one,  to  soften  Censure's  hardy  crimes  ; 
Not  one,  to  palliate  peevish  grief's  complaint, 
Who,  like  a  demon,  murmuring  from  the  dust, 
Dares  into  judgment  call  his  judge — Supreme ! 
For  all  I  bless  thee  ;  most  for  the  severe  ; 
It  thunders,  but  it  thunders  to  preserve  ; 
It  strengthens  what  it  strikes ;  its  hideous  groans 
Join  heaven's  sweet  hallelujahs  in  thy  praise, 
Great  Source  of  good  alone  !  how  kind  in  all ! 
In  vengeance  kiud,  in  pain  and  death." 

"Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  and  all  that  is 
within  me,  bless  his  holy  name ;  who  forgiveth 
all  thine  iniquities ;  who  healeth  all  thy  diseases  ; 
who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction  ;  who 
crowneth  thee  with  loving-kindness  and  tender 
mercies." 


MAN  CREATED  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

"  So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image." — Gen.  i.,  27. 

THIS  was  the  last  and  noblest  work  of  the 
Creator.  He  had  arched  the  heavens  and  mould- 
ed the  earth  ;  he  had  set  bounds  to  the  great  deep, 
and  caused  the  dry  land  to  appear ;  he  had  clothed 
the  mountains  with  verdure,  and  filled  the  vales 
with  life  and  beauty  ;  he  had  peopled  the  waters 
with  the  finny  tribes,  with  "  great  whales"  and  the 
mighty  leviathan  ;  he  had  made  the  air  to  swarm 
with  the  humming  insect  and  "  flying  fowl,"  and 
he  had  covered  the  earth  with  "  cattle  and  creep- 
ing things ;"  but  there  was  as  yet  nothing  within 
the  boundaries  of  the  new  creation  which  was 
worthy  to  receive  the  impress  of.  his  own  nature. 
"  And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image, 
after  our  likeness,  and  let  them  have  dominion 
over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the 
air,  and  over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the  earth, 
and  over  every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon 
the  earth.  So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image, 
in  the  image  of  God  created  he  him ;  male  and 


'.« •*  * 

*  ,&. 

MAN  CREATED  IN  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  141 

female  created  he  them ;  and  God  blessed  them, 
and  said  unto  them,  Replenish  the  earth,  and 
subdue  it,  and  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the 
sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  every 
living  thing  that  moveth  upon  the  earth." 

Here  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom.  Here  is  the 
basis  of  all  moral  truth.  To  man  there  are  no 
greater  questions  than  these: — What  is  my  na- 
ture? and  what  was  I  made  for?  If  he  cannot 
answer,  he  is  wofully  blind  and  ignorant  of  every- 
thing that  most  vitally  concerns  his  true  interest 
and  welfare,  however  learned  he  may  be  in  litera- 
ture and  science.  He  knows  not  the  law  and 
purpose  of  his  being,  and  he  is  as  little  prepared 
to  see  the  wisdom  of  God  in  the  constitution  of 
his  nature,  and  to  act  well  his  part  on  the  stage  of 
human  life,  as  the  mariner  would  be  to  shun  the 
perils  of  the  ocean,  if  he  should  push  out  to  sea 
ignorant  of  the  several  parts  of  his  vessel  and  of 
their  uses,  and  without  chart  or  compass  with 
which  to  regulate  his  passage. 

"  God  created  man  in  his  own  image."  What 
does  this  mean  ?  Is  it  true  ?  And  what  light  does 
it  shed  on  human  nature,  duty,  and  destiny  ?  These 
questions  seem  to  cover  the  main  ground  of  the 
subject-matter  of  the  text,  and  I  feel  that  I  can- 
18 


.42 


MAN    CREATED 


not  better  employ  your  minds  at  the  present  time 
than  in  their  discussion. 

I.  What  are  we  to  understand  by  the  state- 
ment that  "God  created  man  in  his  own  image?" 
An  image  is  the  representation  or  likeness  of  a 
thing.  It  has  long  been  a  custom  to  enstamp  the 
image  of  the  reigning  king  or  ruler  upon  the  coins 
that  are  put  into  circulation,  and  when  this  has 
been  done,  the  features  of  the  original  have  had 
an  impression  upon  the  circulating  medium.  We 
have  a  case  in  point  in  the  Gospel  history.  Some 
cavilers  came  to  Christ  with  the  question,  "  Is  it 
lawful  to  give  tribute  unto  Caesar,  or  not  ?  And 
Jesus  said  unto  them,  Show  me  the  tribute  money. 
And  they  brought  unto  him  a  penny.  And  he 
saith  unto  them,  Whose  is  this  image  and  super- 
scription? They  say  unto  him,  Ceesar's."  The 
penny  wore  the  impression  of  Caesar's  features, 
and  therefore  they  could  not  mistake  its  parent- 
age and  ownership.  So  it  is  with  man.  The 
image  of  God  is  enstamped  upon  his  nature.  The 
features  of  the  Divine  Mind  are  drawn  upon  his 
own,  and  he  who  will  read  them  cannot  doubt  the 
divinity  of  his  parentage. 

We  shall  obtain  more  distinct  conceptions  of 
the  nature  of  the  divine  image  in  man  by  consider- 
ing the  nature  and  attributes  of  God.  "  God  is  a 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OF    GOD. 

Spirit,"  said  the  great  Teacher,  and  all  creation 
proclaims  the  same  truth.  The  laws  of  nature  all 
point  us  to  a  spiritual  existence  above  them,  "  who, 
retired  behind  his  own  creation,  works  unseen." 
Gross,  unthinking  matter  could  no  more  have  been 
the  cause  of  creation  and  her  wonderful  operations, 
than  eternal  darkness  could  have  been  the  cause 
of  the  existence  of  light.  Hence  philosophy  and 
revelation  are  one  in  saying  that  the  Author  of 
nature  is  a  spiritual  being.  He  is  Mind.  He  is 
Infinite  Intelligence.  Now  here  we  may  see  the 
nature  of  the  divine  image  in  man.  He  is  not  all 
matter.  "  The  life  is  more  than  meat."  He  has 
a  spiritual,  intellectual  nature.  A  ray  of  the  di- 
vine light  is  given  him,  and  it  makes  him  a  being 
of  thought,  intelligence,  knowledge.  But  we 
must  not  stop  here.  God  is  not  mere  Intelligence. 
There  is  a  higher  principle  in  his  nature.  He  is  a 
moral,  as  well  as  a  mental  being.  "  Justice  and 
judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne."  Per- 
fect Rectitude,  impartial  Equity,  unspotted  and 
everlasting  Purity,  and  infinite  Benevolence,  are 
the  qualities  of  his  nature,  and  the  laws  of  his  gov- 
ernment; and  they  make  it  inconsistent  with  his 
own  happiness  and  the  welfare  of  his  subjects  to 
do  wickedly,  or  pervert  judgment.  And  here  do 
we  see  what  is  the  highest  glory  of  the  divine 


144  MAN    CREATED 

image  in  man.  He  is  not  only  an  intellectual,  but 
a  moral  being.  The  ideas  of  justice,  of  right,  of 
rectitude,  and  of  benevolence,  are  the  noblest  ele- 
ments of  his  being ;  and  in  virtue  of  these  elements, 
sin  is  inconsistent  with  his  nature  and  welfare  ; 
moral  purity  is  his  natural  element,  and  the  only 
one  in  which  he  can  be  happy. 

When,  therefore,  it  is  said  that  "  God  created 
man  in  his  own  image,"  the  simple  meaning  is, 
that  man  was  endowed  with  an  intellectual  and 
moral  nature.  There  is  nothing  in  it  to  favor  the 
idea  (which  some  have  supposed  to  have  been 
the  meaning  of  the  sacred  writer)  that  man  was 
made  immortal  or  incorruptible ;  but  the  whole  of 
the  matter  is  simply  this, — that  a  likeness  of  the 
divine  attributes  was  impressed  upon  human  na- 
ture, making  man  an  intellectual  and  moral  being. 
This  view  is  abundantly  confirmed  by  the  Apostle 
Paul,  who  defines  the  image  of  God  to  be  "  knowl- 
edge," "  righteousness  and  true  holiness  ;"  that  is, 
moral  purity. 

II.  Let  us  now  inquire,  Is  this  true  1  True  !  I 
need  not  ask  this  question,  except  for  the  purpose 
of  saying  a  few  things  by  way  of  confirmation. 
Little  as  some  men  think,  and  much  as  some  men 
doubt,  there  can  be  but  few  who  will  call  in  ques- 
tion the  doctrine  of  the  text.  And  if  there  are 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  145 

any  such,  we  believe  that  their  scepticism  can  be 
removed  by  their  looking  into  the  nature  of  man. 
The  time  has  been  when  the  Mosaic  account  of  the 
creation  of  the  world  was  denied,  even  by  men  of 
science ;  and  it  was  confidently  said,  that  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Bible  was  a  lie,  and  that,  for  aught 
that  man  could  tell,  the  world  has  existed  forever ; 
but  since  then,  the  bosom  of  the  earth  has  been 
bored  and  dug,  and  her  successive  strata  and  the 
remains  of  her  former  children  have  been  laid  open 
to  the  gaze  of  a  doubting  world  ;  and  the  conse- 
quence has  been,  that  the  recent  creation  of  the 
eatth,  with  its  productions  and  inhabitants,  has  been 
made,  not  a  matter  of  mere  faith,  but  of  positive 
demonstration.  So  here :  if  there  are  any  who 
doubt  that  the  Bible  tells  the  truth  when  it  says 
that  "God  created  man  in  his  own  image,"  they 
will  find  a  cure  for  their  scepticism  in  the  investi- 
gation of  the  nature  of  man.  Let  them  penetrate 
its  crust ;  let  them  go  beneath  its  surface,  and  lay 
open  its  inward  strata ;  and  let  them  read  the 
prints  and  impressions  of  the  divine  hand,  and 
decipher  the  hieroglyphics  that  are  written  upon 
the  soul ;  and  they  will  find  the  image  of  God, 
distinct  and  clear,  on  the  tablet  of  human  nature, 
and  they  will  henceforth  look  upon  man,  not  as  a 
mere  lump  of  animated  clay,  but  as  a  spiritual 
13* 


146  MAN    CREATED 

being  ;  not  as  a  brute,  but  the  child  of  God ;  not  as 
the  insect  of  a  day,  but  the  heir  of  immortality. 

"  Call  now  to  mind  what  high, 
Capacious  powers  lie  folded  up  in  man." 

Look  upon  his  works.  Mark  his  conquests  over 
nature.  Read  the  productions  of  his  genius.  Proofs 
of  mental  weakness  and  folly  you  will  doubtless 
find,  but  you  cannot  look  upon  the  temples  he  has 
reared,  the  cities  he  has  built,  the  continents  he 
has  explored  and  subdued,  much  less  can  you  ex- 
amine the  arts  and  sciences  which  he  has  devel- 
oped, and  the  systems  of  law  and  philosophy 
which  he  has  elaborated,  without  being  led  to  the 
conclusion  that  there  is  within  him  an  intellectual 
energy  which  claims  kindred  with  that  mighty 
Mind  which  contrived  and  built  this  vast  and  glo- 
rious universe.  So  evident  is  the  fact  that  man  is 
an  intellectual  being,  that  it  has  never  been  de- 
nied, certainly  by  no  man  of  intelligence ;  l)ut  there 
has  been  one  wa/  by  which  some  men,  calling 
themselves  philosophers,  have  endeavored  to  prove 
that  intelligence,,  is  not  a  natural  attribute.  It 
has  been  said  that  man's  powers  are  the  result 
of  education ;-. that  they  are  not  innate,  but  the 
growth  of  circumstances.  This  is  a  part  of  that 
system  of  philosophy  which  has  contended  that 
there  has  been  no  such  thing  as  absolute  creation 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  147 

in  nature,  but  that  everything  has  sprouted  and 
grown  up  spontaneously.  They  have  imagined 
that  the  earth,  somehow  or  other,  in  some  strange 
way,  but  in  a  fortunate  moment,  brought  forth  a 
vegetable,  that  this  grew  awhile,  and  then  sprout- 
ed up  into  an  animal,  and  that  the  animal  crawled 
about  awhile  upon  the  earth,  but,  through  in- 
convenience or  pride,  it  soon  took  to  itself  legs, 
which  happened  to  come  that  way  at  the  right 
time,  and  walked,  and  finally,  aspiring  still  higher, 
it  threw  away  its  fore  legs  and  paws,  and  took  a 
pair  of  arms  and  hands,  and  became  a  man  !  On 
this  hypothesis,  the  elephant  once  had  no  trunk, 
and  the  birds  no  bills  nor  wings,  but  they  gradu- 
ally grew  out  as  they  made  efforts  to  gather  their 
food,  or  to  fly !  And  accordingly,  it  has  been 
argued  that  the  mental  powers  which  so  distinguish 
and  ennoble  man  are  not  innate,  were  not  originally 
created  in  him,  but  are  the  result  of  effort,  the 
product  of  circumstances,  the  fruit  of  education. 

Now,  if  this  theory  could  be  sustained,  the  idea 
that  God  created  man  after  his  own  image,  might 
be  all  a  delusion  ;  the  dream  of  the  atheist  might 
be  a  reality,  and  man  would  trace  his  pedigree 
and  find  his  parentage  in  the  brute,  and  thence 
downward  to  the  vegetable,  and  lower  still,  down — 
down  to  nothing  !  But  the  theory  will  not  abide 


148  MAN    CREATED 

the  test  of  facts.  Who  ever  knew  vegetables 
grow  up  into  animals,  and  animals  into  men  ? 
Who  ever  saw  an  elephant  without  a  trunk,  or 
birds  without  bills  or  wings  ?  We  should  really 
like  to  know !  But  we  suspect  that  nothing  of 
this  kind  was  ever  seen,  and  for  a  good  reason, 
because  nothing  of  the  kind  ever  existed.  This 
is  the  decision  of  modern  science.  The  discoveries 
in  geology  and  physiology  have  abundantly  proved 
that  each  species  of  plants  and  animals  is  distinct 
and  separate,  not  intermingling  one  with  another, 
nor  growing  out  of  each  other,  being  endowed  at 
the  moment  of  their  creation  with  the  perfect 
germs  or  attributes  of  all  that  they  will  be  in  their 
maturity.  Hence  every  species  of  the  vegetable 
kingdom,  and  every  tribe  of  animals,  is  the  same 
now,  in  the  essential  properties  of  their  nature,  as 
when  they  were  first  called  into  being.  Time, 
circumstances,  education,  may  have  developed 
their  qualities  and  powers,  but  they  have  not,  be- 
cause they  could  not  have,  created  them.  Talk  of 
education  creating  the  powers  of  the  mind  !  There 
cannot  be  a  greater  absurdity.  You  might  as 
well  say  that  education  would  create  wings  on  our 
bodies,  or  give  us  another  set  of  ears  or  eyes !  It 
is  the  work  of  education,  not  to  create,  but  to 
train,  develop,  cultivate,  what  already  exists. 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OF    GOD.  149 

Education  learns  the  young  bird  how  to  fly  ;  but 
it  did  not  create  its  wings  ;  these  were  the  work 
of  its  Maker,  and  they  were  folded  up  in  the  very 
egg  whose  shell'it  has  left  behind  it.  And  so  it 
is  with  man.  When  he  comes  from  the  hand  of 
his  Maker,  he  has  within  him  the  germs  of  all  that 
he  is  ever  to  become,  either  in  this  world  or  in  the 
future ;  and  all  that  education,  philosophy,  or 
revelation  can  do,  is  to  bring  out  his  primitive 
powers,  and  guide  them  to  their  legitimate  objects. 
Newton,  when  he  lay  "  mewling  and  puking  in 
his  nurse's  arms,"  possessed  within  the  folds  of 
his  inward  being  every  attribute  of  that  godlike 
intellect  which  afterward  weighed  the  planets  hi 
its  scales,  and  unraveled  the  laws  which  govern 
their  action.  It  was  effort,  education,  discipline, 
which  called  out  his  powers,  and  made  him  suc- 
cessful in  his  career  of  glory.  And  if  you,  and  I, 
and  the  rest  of  our  race,  are  ignorant  like  the  beasts 
which  perish,  and  our  minds  are  unenlightened, 
unstored  with  knowledge,  it  is  not  because  God 
has  denied  us  the  requisite  capacities,  but  because 
we  have  neglected  to  employ  them  ;  and  though 
it  may  not  be  true  that  we  are  all  endowed  with 
the  same  degree  of  mental  capacity  at  our  crea- 
tion, yet  it  may  be  put  down  as  a  fact  that  the 
differences  among  us,  in  point  of  knowledge,  are 


150  MAN    CREATED 

owing  more  to  circumstances  than  nature,  more 
to  education  than  innate  capacity. 

It  is  therefore  a  matter  of  demonstration  that 
man  is  naturally  an  intellectual  being ;  and  so  it 
is  that  he  is  naturally  a  moral  being.  And  when 
we  say  that  man  is  naturally  a  moral  being,  we 
mean  that  his  nature  is  cast  in  such  a  mould — 
that  his  faculties  are  of  such  a  constitutional  char- 
acter, that  virtue  is  his  natural  condition,  and 
moral  purity  the  only  element  in  which  he  can  be 
happy.  We  know  that  different  views  of  our  na- 
ture are  entertained.  There  are  philosophers,  as 
they  call  themselves,  who  view  virtue  as  a  mere 
accident  of  our  nature,  as  the  product  of  habit  or 
education  ;  and  there  are  theologians  who  affirm 
that  there  is  naturally  no  good  thing  about  man, 
and  that  his  nature  must  be  worked  over,  be  made 
anew,  before  he  can  perform  a  virtuous  deed.  But 
we  believe  that  our  position  can  be  abundantly 
sustained,  that  man  is  naturally  a  moral  being ; 
and  there  are  two  facts  which  would  seem  to  be 
enough  to  put  the  matter  beyond  the  reach  of 
cavil. 

1.  Man  has  moral  faculties  or  affections,  and 
they  are  the  highest  portion  of  his  nature. 

The  moral  is  placed  above  the  animal,  and  in- 
vested with  authority  to  govern  it.  Conscience, 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  151 

the  divinity  within,  is  the  highest  power  of  the 
soul.  When  man  hearkens  to  its  sacred  and  au- 
thoritative voice, — when  he  listens  to  the  dictates 
of  his  moral  nature,  he  resists  the  impulses  of  his 
appetites  and  passions,  gets  the  victory  over 
temptations,  and  fulfills  the  law  and  purpose  of  his 
being  in  maintaining  a  course  of  virtue  and  purity. 
This  is  his  natural  condition.  But  when  he  turns 
a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of  his  moral  nature,  and 
gives  himself  up  to  the  guidance  of  his  animal 
appetites  and  passions,  he  reverses  the  order,  and 
violates  the  law  of  his  nature,  and  thus  becomes 
a  sinner.  You  say  of  a  fish,  that  it  was  made  to 
live  in  the  water;  and  of  a  bird,  that  it  was  de- 
signed for  the  air ;  because  they  are  physically 
adapted  to  these  different  elements.  So  with 
man.  His  faculties  are  adapted  to  virtue ;  he  has 
a  moral  nature ;  and  when  he  goes  into  vice,  he 
goes  out  of  his  natural  element.  We  shall  come 
to  the  same  conclusion,  if  we  consider, — 

2.  The  effects  of  vice.  Man,  we  very  well  know, ' 
has  sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God. 
His  nature,  we  confess,  has  been  corrupted,  de- 
praved, degraded  ;  he  has  reversed  the  order,  and 
violated  the  law  of  God  within  him  ;  and  this  is 
sometimes  referred  to  as  proof  that  depravity  is 
his  natural  element,  and  that  the  image  of  God 


152  MAN    CREATED 

has  been  blotted  out  from  his  nature.  We  admit 
the  fact,  but  we  draw  from  it  a  different  conclu- 
sion. You  tell  me  that  man  is  a  great  sinner.  I 
grant  it ;  I  know  it.  What  then  ?  Why,  that  he 
has  a  great  capacity  for  virtue,  for  goodness. 
"  Sin  is  the  transgression  of  the  law ;"  and  if  the 
law  of  duty,  of  virtue,  were  not  written  on  his 
heart,  he  could  not  be  a  sinner  in  transgressing  it ; 
indeed,  he  could  not  transgress  it,  if  it  were  not 
written  there,  because  he  could  have  no  sense  of 
virtue  before  sinning,  and  no  sense  of  guilt  when 
and  after  he  had  sinned. 

There  is  another  fact  which  has  more  weight 
than  the  opinions  of  divines,  and  which  clearly 
proves  that  all  this  depravity  is  unnatural.  It  is 
this :  What  is  its  effect  1  What  influence  does  it 
exert  on  man  ?  Does  it  exalt  and  ennoble  him  ? 
Does  it  carry  peace,  joy,  .and  contentment  to  the 
soul  ?  Does  he  find  it  the  way  of  prosperity  and 
happiness  ?  If  so,  depravity  is  natural  to  him  ; 
it  is  his  true  element,  and  he  had  better  remain  in 
it  forever.  But  no.  Depravity,  sin,  is  a  deadly 
enemy  to  man. 

It  destroys  the  divine  harmony  of  his  nature, 
eats  away  its  beauty  like  a  moth,  and  makes  him 
uneasy,  discontented,  unhappy.  It  pollutes  all 
the  fountains  of  enjoyment  within  him,  and  fre- 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  153 

quently  forces  him  to  use  the  language  which 
Milton  has  put  into  the  mouth  of  Satan, — 

"  Me  miserable ! 

Which  way  I  fly  is  hell ;  myself  am  hell, 
And  in  the  lowest  deep." 

Now  why  is  this  ?  It  is  because  depravity  is 
an  unnatural  condition.  It  is  because  man  has  a 
moral  nature,  and  because  he  can  find  no  peace, 
no  happiness,  but  in  moral  purity,  the  element  in 
which  he  was  created.  When  you  see  a  fish 
gasping  upon  the  shore,  you  say  it  is  unhappy, 
because  it  is  out  of  its  natural  element ;  and  when 
we  see.  man  uneasy,  unhappy  in  his  depravity  and 
sin,  we  know  that  it  is  because  he  is  in  an  unnat- 
ural state, — because  he  has  departed  from  the 
original  purity  of  his  nature. 

Moses,  then,  was  dealing  in,  no.  fiction  when  he 
affirmed  that  "  God  created  man  in  his  own 
image."  He  declared  a  truth  which  can  yet  be 
read  upon  his  inner  nature.  Ignorant  and  de- 
praved though  he  be,  enslaved  and  degraded  as  he 
is,  there  is  still  to  be  discerned  the  distinct  and 
clear  impressions  of  the  attributes  of  his  Maker 
upon  him.  He  has  intellectual  and  moral  facul- 
ties, and  these  are  his  highest  powers.  They  con- 
stitute the  man,  and  should  regulate  his  whole 
14 


154  MAN    CREATED 

conduct.  They  give  him  dominion  over  "  every 
living  thing  that  moveth  upon  the  earth,"  and 
over  "the  subtle  beast"  of  his  own  animal  na- 
ture ;  and  when  he  maintains  this  dominion,  and 
regulates  his  whole  conduct  by  enlightened  rea- 
son and  a  good  conscience,  he  stands  forth  in  his 
true  glory  ;  "  the  benignity,  serenity,  and  splen- 
dor of  a  highly-elevated  nature  beam  from  his 
countenance,  and  radiate  from  his  eye.  He  is 
then  lovely,  noble,  and  gigantically  great."  And 
when  he  allows  his  appetites  and  passions  to  lead 
him  astray,  and  this  divine  order  is  broken,  the 
degradation  and  misery,  which  are  the  certain 
consequences  of  sin,  proclaim,  in  tones  of  sad  but 
truthful  eloquence,  that  the  image  of  God  yet 
shines  within  him,  revealing  to  him  his  guilt,  and 
giving  him  a  withering  sense  of  his  fallen  condi- 
tion, and  causing  him  to  say  as  the  Prodigal  did 
while  afar  off  in  the  barren  land  of  transgression, 
"  Iperiih  ;  1  will  arise  and  go  to  my  Father."  And 
these  facts  show,  not  only  that  man  was  created 
in  the  Divine  image  at  the  beginning  of  our  race, 
but  that  he  still  wears  this  image ;  for  if  this 
were  not  the  case,  he  could  be  neither  a  moral 
nor  an  accountable  being.  And  this  is  confirmed 
by  the  Apostle  James,  who  says,  "  Men  ARE  made 
after  the  similitude  of  God." 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  155 

III.  We  now  come  to  make  a  practical  improve- 
ment of  the  truth  which  we  have  illustrated  and 
defended.  Man  wears  the  image  of  God.  What 
conclusions  shall  we  draw  from  this  great  fact  ? 

1.  We  may  here  learn  the  digaity  and  worth  of 
Human  Nature.  It  is  not  created  with  powers 
which  place  it  above  the  possibility  of  error  and 
sin ;  to  use  the  expressive  language  of  an  Apostle, 
it  is  created  "  subject  to  vanity ;"  but  it  has  ca- 
pacities and  desires  for  truth,  purity,  and  perfec- 
tion ;  and  when,  through  its  present  weakness,  it 
falls  short  of  their  attainment,  the  dissatisfaction, 
pain,  and  woe  which  it  experiences  bear  eloquent 
testimony  to  the  fact,  that  it  has  fallen  from  its 
true  sphere,  from  its  natural  dignity  and  glory. 
How  clearly  do  we  here  see  the  grossness  and  the 
folly  of  the  two  views  of  our  nature,  which  have 
been  too  common  in  all  ages, — the  one  contending 
that  man  is  a  mere  animal,  with  a  little  more  intel- 
lect, it  may  be,  but  endowed  with  no  high  moral 
qualities,  and  intended  no  more  for  the  attainment 
of  knowledge  and  virtue  than  he  was  to  live  in  ig- 
norance and  vice ;  the  other  affirming  that  our 
nature  is  a  hateful  mass  of  moral  corruption,  de- 
void «f  every  natural  capacity  for  virtue' and  good- 
ness, and  incapable  of  a  pure  thought  or  a  virtu- 
ous deed,  until  it  is  worked  over  and  made  anew  ! 


156  MAN  CREATED 

We  can  say  in  the  language  of  Channing : — 

"  I  do  and  I  must  reverence  human  nature.     Nei- 

t 

ther  the  sneers  of  a  worldly  scepticism,  nor  the 
groans  of  a  gloomy  theology,  disturb  my  faith  in 
its  godlike  powers  and  tendencies.  I  know  how 
it  is  despised,  how  it  has  been  oppressed,  how 
civil  and  religious  establishments  have  for  ages 
conspired  to  crush  it.  I  know  its  history.  I  shut 
my  eyes  on  none  of  its  weaknesses  and  crimes.  I 
know  the  proofs  by  which  despotism  demonstrates 
that  man  is  a  wild  beast,  in  want  of  a  master,  and 
only  safe  in  chains.  But  injured,  scorned,  and 
trampled  on  as  our  nature  is,  I  stil  1  turn  to  it  with 
intense  sympathy  and  strong  hope.  The  signa- 
tures of  its  origin  and  its  end  are  too  deeply  im- 
pressed upon  it  to  be  ever  wholly  effaced.  I  bless 
it  for  its  kind  affections,  for  its  strong  and  tender 
love.  I  honor  it  for  its  struggles  against  oppres- 
sion, for  its  growth  and  progress  under  the  weight 
of  so  many  chains  and  prejudices,  for  its  achieve- 
ments in  science  and  art,  and  still  more  for  its  ex- 
amples of  heroic  and  saintly  virtue;  and  I  thank 
God  that  my  own  lot  is  bound  up  with  that  of 
the  human  race." 

In  this  view  of  our  nature,  we  find  an  answer 
to  the  inquiry  which  arose  in  the  mind  of  the 
Psalmist,  when  he  cast  his  eye  abroad  over  the 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OF    GOD.  157 

universe,  and  beheld  the  infinitude  of  the  Creator's 
works  :  "  Lord,  what  is  man,  that  thou  art  mind- 
ful of  him,  and  the  son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest 
him  ?"  How  natural  was  the  inquiry  !  Who  has 
not  felt,  when,  in  some  bright  and  beautiful  even- 
ing, he  has  gazed  away  into  the  blue  heavens,  and 
looked  upon  the  unnumbered  worlds  that  people 
the  realms  of  space,— who  has  not  then  felt  that 
man  is  too  insignificant  a  creature  in  the  universe 
to  receive  the  care  and  protection  of  his  Maker  ? 
Who  has  not  then  felt  that  the  Being  who  presides 
over  such  vast  domains  cannot  stoop  so  low  as  to 
be  mindful  of  him,  and  to  visit  him  with  a  Saviour 
and  with  revelations  of  his  will  and  requirements  ? 
So  felt  the  Psalmist  when  he  considered  the  heav- 
ens, the  moon,  and  the  stars  which  God  had  or- 
dained. But  he  was  relieved  from  the  trouble- 
some thought  and  the  sinking  feeling,  when  he 
called  home  his  discursive  spirit,  and  turned  his 
mind  inward  upon  the  nature  of  man.  He  saw 
there  the  image  of  his  Maker ;  he  perceived  that 
he  had  an  intellectual  and  moral  constitution  which 
made  him  superior  to  all  the  glories  and  wonders 
of  the  material  universe.  He  then  seized  his  harp 
anew,  and  sung  an  answer  to  the  question  :  "  Lord, 
what  is  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him  ?" 
"  For  thou  hast  made  him  a  little  lower  than  the 
14* 


158  MAN    CREATED 

angels,  and  hast  crowned  him  with  glory  and 
honor.  Thou  madest  him  to  have  dominion 
over  the  works  of  thy  hands :  thou  hast  put  all 
things  under  his  feet :  all  sheep  and  oxen,  yea, 
and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  fowl  of  the  air,  the 
fish  of  the  sea,  and  whatsoever  passeth  through 
the  depth  of  the  sea.  O  Lord  our  God,  how 
excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the  earth !"  And 
if  we  have  correct  views  of  our  nature,  we  shall 
see  beauty  in  all  the  works  of  God,  and  we  shall 
feel,  without  pride,  that  we  are  of  more  value  in 
his  sight  than  many  worlds,  that  the  very  "  hairs 
of  our  head  are  numbered"  before  him,  and  that 
there  is  not  a  want  in  our  nature  which  has  not 
provided  means  to  satisfy.  We  shall  read  the  rec- 
ords of  Revelation,  and  in  the  mission  of  prophets 
and  the  visit  of  the  Son  of  God,  in  their  astonish- 
ing annunciations  and  their  wonderful  miracles, 
when  the  heavens  spoke  and  the  grave  gave  up  its 
dead,  we  shall  see  nothing  incredible — nothing  in- 
consistent with  the  works  and  ways  of  God,  but 
we  shall  regard  these  things  as  speaking  and  faith- 
ful witnesses  of  his  mindfulness  of  his  children, 
and  as  the  means  of  giving  them  a  knowledge  of 
himself,  of  his  everlasting  love  and  his  holy  laws, 
and  of  carrying  them  forward  to  the  perfection 
and  glory  of  their  being. 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  159 

2.  What  clear  and  useful  light  does  our  subject 
shed  upon  human  duty  !  It  not  only  shows  that 
a  course  of  sin  is  inconsistent  with  the  nature  and 
welfare  of  man,  but  that  he  should  seek  his  glory 
and  happiness,  not  in  mere  earthliness  and  world- 
liness,  but  in  the  culture  of  his  intellectual  and 
moral  powers.  He  may  and  he  should  take  an 
interest  in  the  things  of  this  world,  and  it  is  his 
duty  to  make  a  portion  of  them  his  own  ;  but  if  his 
attention  and  affections  are  all  confined  to  these 
transient,  perishing  objects — if  he  does  not  employ 
his  intellect  and  his  moral  nature  in  the  study  of 
truth,  in  the  acquirement  of  knowledge,  and  in  the 
love  and  practice  of  virtue,  he  perverts  the  great 
purpose  of  his  being,  and  he  is  "  poor  indeed." 
He  may  and  he  should  labor  for  the  meat  which 
perisheth,  for  the  means  of  preserving  and  enjoy- 
ing an  animal  existence,  but  he  should  labor  harder 
for  that  which  endureth  unto  everlasting  life, — for 
the  elevation  and  gratification  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  nature, — for  the  acquisition  of  a  correct 
knowledge  of  God  and  his  government,  and  for 
increase  and  triumph  in  moral  excellence. 

Look,  my  friends,  within  you.  Read  the  writ- 
ing which  the  divine  hand  has  put  upon  the  soul. 
"  Whose  image  and  superscription  is  this?"  Say 
you  not,  "  It  is  God's  ?"  Wherefore,  let  me  say, 


160  MAN    CREATED 

"  render  unto  him  the  things  which  are  his." 
Give  him  your  affections,  your  gratitude,  your 
obedience.  Let  every  faculty  of  your  nature  be 
kept  in  agreement  with  his  laws.  Love  him  with 
all  your  hearts,  and  with  all  your  strength,  and 
with  all  your  souls. 

"  Let  deep  this  truth  impress  our  mind, — 

Through  all  his  works  abroad, 
The  heart  benevolent  and  kind, 

The  most  resembles  God." 

And,  3.  What  light  does  this  subject  shed  on 
the  question  in  regard  to  human  destiny  ?  Does 
it  not  furnish  proof  that  the  Chiistian  hope  of 
immortality  has  a  foundation  in  human  nature  ? 
Does  it  not  give  at  least  strong  presumptive  evi- 
dence that  man  was  made  for  a  higher  and  beeter 
life  than  the  present  ?  How  others  view  the  mat- 
ter I  cannot  say ;  but,  for  one,  I  cannot  see  how 
an  affirmative  answer  can  be  avoided  ;  I  cannot 
see  why  man  was  endowed  with  the  image  of  his 
Maker ;  why  his  intellectual  and  moral  powers 
were  conferred  upon  him,  giving  him  "  thoughts 
which  wander  through  eternity,"  and  aspirations 
after  infinite  and  eternal  good,  if  his  career  was  to 
end  at  the  grave,  and  the  light  within  him  quenched 
in  eternal  night.  Why,  if  this  is  to  be  his  doom, 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OP    GOD.  161 

were  not  his  powers  adapted  to  his  end  ?  Why 
not  made  a  brute,  if  he  is  to  perish  with  the  brute  ? 
Why  do  his  thoughts  claim  an  infinite  field  for 
their  exercise,  and  an  imperishable  good  for  their 
end,  if  he  was  not  made  for  immortality  ?  I  must 
adopt  the  conclusion  of  an  Apostle :  "  The  crea- 
ture was  made  subject  to  vanity,  not  willingly,  but 
by  reason  of  Him  who  hath  subjected  the  same  in 
hope,  because  the  creature  itself  also  shall  be  de- 
livered from  the  bondage  of  corruption,  into  the 
glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God."  "  For 
this  corruptible  must  put  on  incorruption,  and  this 
mortal  immortality." 

"  It  must  be  so," — Paul,  "  thou  reasonest  well ! — 
Else,  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality  1 
Or,  whence  this  secret  dread  and  inward  horror, 
Of  falling  into  naught  1    Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction  1 
'Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us  ; 
"Tis  Heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man." 

I  read  this  glorious  truth  in  the  teachings  of 
Christianity  and  in  the  nature,  capacities,  and 
aspirations  of  the  human  mind.  I  think  I  cannot 
be  mistaken  in  supposing  that  the  image  of  God 
in  man  makes  him  of  more  worth  than  the  whole 
outward  universe,  and  that  it  will  exist  and  reflect 


162  MAN    CREATED 

the  glories  of  its  Maker,  after  the  present  form  of 
our  creation  shall  have  passed  away. 

"  The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  Nature  sink  in  years  ; 
But  this  shall  flourish  in  .immortal  youth, 
Unhurt  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 
The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crush  of  worlds." 

And  we  may  not  only  learn  from  this  subject, 
that  man  shall  have  immortality,  but  that  it  will 
be  an  immortality  which  will  be  a  blessing  to  all 
our  race. 

It  does  not  seem  consistent  or  reasonable,  that 
God  would  banish  his  own  image,  his  own  child, 
from  him  forever.  What  if  it  is  now  corrupt  ? 
Has  he  not  power  to  cleanse  it  ?  What  if  he  is 
now  a  transgressor  ?  Will  he  not  still  require  him 
to  obey  him  ;  and  will  he  not  continue  to  love  him, 
and  strive  to  bring  him  into  the  enjoyment  of  his 
favor  ?  Because  he  is  so  unfortunate  as  to  have 
gone  astray,  will  God  forever  disown  him,  and  give 
him  over  to  the  service  and  dominion  of  an  infinite 
being,  called  the  Devil  ?  Be  not  hasty  in  your 
conclusion.  Look  on  the  heart  of  Humanity. 
Read  the  writing  on  human  nature.  "  Whose 
image  and  superscription  is  this  ?"  Ah !  it  is 
God's.  "Render  unto  God,  therefore,  the  things 
that  are  God's."  Consent  that  he  will  eternally 


IN    THE    IMAGE    OF    GOD.  163 

claim  the  obedience  of  his  offspring,  and  that  the 
ends  of  his  government  will  not  be  answered,  till 
all  shall  pay  the  tribute  of  their  love  into  the  treas- 
ury of  heaven,  and  are  made  the  heirs  and  recip- 
ients of  an  incorruptible  and  fadeless  inheritance. 
The  image  which  they  wear  upon  their  nature 
may  be  soiled  and  marred,  while  in  its  present  incip- 
ient state,  but  it  shall  be  made  bright  and  glo- 
rious in  its  ascent  to  the  world  for  which  it  is 
destined.  And  so  it  is  written  :  "  It  is  sown  in 
corruption  ;  it  is  raised  in  incorruption.  It  is  sown 
in  dishonor ;  it  is  raised  in  glory.  It  is  sown  in 
weakness  ;  it  is  raised  in  power.  It  is  sown  a 
natural  body ;  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body. 
There  is  a  natural  body,  and  there  is  a  spiritual 
body."  "  The  dust  shall  return  to  the  earth  as  it 
was ;  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who 
gave  it." 

"  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  and  all  that  is 

within  me,  bless  his  holy  name," 

' 


SIN  A  MORAL  INSANITY. 
"  And  he  came  to  himself." — Luke  xv..  17. 

SIN  is  always  held  up  in  the  Bible  as  the  great- 
est evil  under  the  sun,  and  the  figures  which  the 
sacred  writers  employ  to  describe  its  nature  and 
influence  are  strikingly  significant  of  blight  and 
ruin  to  the  happiness  of  man.  It  is  generally 
compared  to  some  loathsome  and  mortal  disease ; 
frequently  it  is  represented  under  the  figure  of 
that  worst  of  all  diseases — the  leprosy,  which, 
although  unseen  in  its  first  stages,  and  slow  in  its 
progress,  leads  to  the  most  ruinous  and  dreadful 
consequences.  In  the  words  which  I  have  just 
read,  or  in  the  great  lesson  of  our  Saviour  from 
which  they  are  taken,  it  is  set  forth  as  a  moral  in- 
sanity, and  in  this  light  I  propose  to  consider  it  in 
the  present  discourse.  I  will  consider, 

I.  Its  Nature. 
II.  Its  Causes. 

III.  Its  Effects.     And 

IV.  Its  Treatment  and  Cure. 

I.  The  nature  of  sin — what  is  it  ?     In  the  par- 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  165 

able  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  it  is  represented  as  a 
state  of  moral  insanity.  The  young  man,  though 
blessed  with  all  the  means  of  enjoyment  which  a 
good  home  and  a  kind  father  could  afford,  be- 
comes uneasy,  discontented,  and  finally  takes  his 
portion  of  the  estate,  and  makes  his  way  into  a  far 
country.  He  there  spends  his  property  in  the 
haunts  of  degradation  and  vice,  and  reduces  him- 
self to  a  state  of  the  most  abject  want  and  misery. 
And  while  suffering  the  sad  effects  of  his  folly, 
"he  came  to  himself,"  and  he  then  said,  "I  will 
arise  and  go  to  my  father."  You  see,  therefore, 
that  he  is  represented  as  being  in  a  state  of  insan- 
ity when  he  went  astray,  and  until  he  learned  that 
there  was  no  permanent  happiness  but  in  the  house 
which  he  had  deserted.  Now  what  is  the  philos- 
ophy of  this  matter  ?  Wherein  lies  the  propri- 
ety of  calling  sin  a  species  of  insanity  ? 

Insanity,  you  must  all  know,  is  a  disease  which 
has  severely  tried  the  wisdom  of  the  wisest  men. 
Through  all  ages  it  has  been  regarded  as  the  worst 
of  maladies  and  the  greatest  of  mysteries.  While 
all  have  seen  and  lamented  its  evils,  few  have  ven- 
tured to  unravel  its  nature.  Very  generally,  it  has 
been  looked  upon  as  an  effect  for  which  no  cause 
could  be  found,  or  as  a  judgment  from  God  for 
something  which  no  mortal  could  understand- 
15 


166  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

But  we  believe  that  the  progress  of  mental  science 
has  thrown  some  light  upon  it,  though,  it  must  be 
confessed,  not  yet  enough  to  scatter  all  the  darkness 
that  lies  around  it.  Since  the  days  of  Gall,  Rush, 
and  Spurzheim,  the  human  mind  has  been  more  and 
more  regarded  as  being  made  up  of  a  variety  of 
animal,  intellectual,  and  moral  faculties,  and  so 
much  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  discovering 
their  functions,  that  light  now  shines  where  there 
was  formerly  nothing  but  darkness.  When  these 
faculties  are  all  in  a  healthy  state,  and  in  harmo- 
nious action,  the  mind  is  perfectly  sane ;  every 
power  in  the  wonderful  machine  fulfills  its  mission, 
and  the  man  stands  forth  in  all  the  dignity  and 
glory  of  his  nature.  But  when  one  or  more  of  the 
faculties,  in  consequence  of  some  undue  excite- 
ment, becomes  unhealthy,  irregular  in  its  action, 
then  the  mind  falls  into  a  state  of  insanity,  and  the 
degree  of  insanity  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  num- 
ber of  the  faculties  which  are  thus  affected,  and  the 
extent  or  degree  in  which  they  are  thus  affected. 
If  only  one  of  the  faculties  are  disturbed  in  its 
functions,  the  mind  will  be  sound  on  all  subjects 
but  one,  and  the  degree  of  that  insanity  will  de- 
pend upon  the  amount  of  injury  done  to  it. 

Insanity,  then,  according  to  this  view  of  the 
matter,  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  derangement 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  167 

— derangement  of  one  or  more  faculties  of  the 
mind ;  and,  consequently,  there  are  as  many 
species  of  insanity  as  there  are  kinds  of  facul- 
ties. And  how  many  kinds  of  faculties  are  there 
in  man  ?  Evidently  three — the  animal,  intel- 
lectual, and  moral.  The  animal  is  the  source  of 
his  appetites  and  propensities,  making  him  a  crea- 
ture of  this  world  ;  and  when  they  act  within  the 
bounds  which  nature  has  set  to  their  gratification, 
they  fulfill  their  offices,  and  minister  to  his  welfare ; 
but  when  they  overleap  these  bounds,  and  run 
into  wild,  unlawful  excesses,  the  order  among  them 
is  broken,  and  they  fall  into  derangement.  This 
is  animal  insanity.  The  intellectual  faculties  are 
the  powers  which  have  been  given  him  for  the  at- 
tainment of  knowledge,  and  by  which  to  choose 
his  way  in  the  walks  of  life ;  they  are  the  means 
through  which  he  observes  facts,  and  rises  to  the 
comprehension  of  laws  and  principles  ;  and  when 
they  are  all  in  healthy  and  harmonious  action,  his  in- 
tellect is  clear  and  sound,  his  memory  and  judgment 
are  good ;  and  he  will  shed  the  sun-light  of  wisdom 
on  all  subj  ects  to  which  he  gives  his  attention ; 
but  when  these  faculties  become  unduly  excited,  or 
they  are  directed  into  wrong  channels,  they  fall 
into  derangement,  reason  leaves  her  royal  throne, 
and  "  the  dome  of  thought,  the  palace  of  the 


168  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

soul,"  crumbles  to  a  heap  of  noble  ruins.  This 
is  intellectual  insanity.  But  there  is  a  higher  na- 
ture and  a  worse  insanity  than  this.  Man  has 
moral  faculties,  and  they  are  his  highest,  no- 
blest powers.  In  these  originate  all  his  ideas  of 
right,  of  justice,  of  benevolence,  of  veneration, 
of  duty,  and  they  make  it  the  end  and  aim  of  his 
being  to  "  depart  from  evil  and  do  good,  to  seek 
peace  and  pursue  it,"  to  restrain  his  appetites  and 
passions,  and  keep  them  within  the  bounds  of  mor- 
al virtue,  and  to  square  all  his  conduct  by  the 
dictates  of  a  pure  conscience.  And  when  he  does 
this,  he  maintains  the  true  glory  of  a  moral  being, 
he  wears  a  crown  upon  his  head  which  gives  him 
more  dignity  than  the  richest  badge  of  royalty 
ever  worn  by  king.  He  then  treads  the  allure- 
ments and  temptations  of  the  world  under  his  feet, 
lives  in  an  atmosphere  of  moral  purity,  considers 
virtue  the  only  true  good,  and  vice  the  greatest 
curse  of  his  nature,  and  reaps  a  rich  reward  in 
constant  harmony  and  peace  of  soul.  But  when  this 
moral  harmony  is  broken,  when  appetite  and  pas- 
sion get  the  ascendency  over  the  moral  nature,  over 
conscience,  and  the  solemn  voice,  which  speaks  of 
virtue  as  the  supreme  good,  is  drowned  by  the 
clamor  and  noise  of  the  propensities,  his  noblest 
powers  fall  into  disorder  and  derangement,  and  he 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  169 

sinks  into  degradation  and  ruin.  This  is  moral  in- 
sanity ;  and  it  is  to  be  "  deplored  as  human  na- 
ture's darkest,-  foulest  blot,"  as  the  greatest  curse 
which  man  brings  upon  himself.  The  loss  of  rea- 
son we  know  is  great,  but  what  is  it  in  compari- 
son with  loss  of  conscience,  loss  of  virtue,  loss 
of  moral  order  ?  Nothing,  and  almost  less  than 
nothing.  When  you  visit  the  Insane  Retreat, 
and  behold  the  wild  ravings,  and  listen  to  the 
strange  mutterings  of  the  unfortunate  inmates,  you 
witness  a  most  horrid  spectacle,  it  is  true  ;  you 
see  intellect  in  ruins  ;  but  if  you  looked  through 
pure  eyes,  you  might  see  in  your  streets  and  the 
dwellings  around  you,  worse  ruins  than  these — 
the  ruins,  not  of  reason  merely,  but  of  the  moral 
nature  ;  you  might  see  men  in  fetters  and  chains 
more  galling  than  those  which  are  made  of  iron — 
the  chains  and  fetters  of  deranged  appetites  and 
passions,  and  you  might  realize  that  they  were  in 
more  gloomy  retreats  than  those  in  -which  the  ma- 
niacs are  confined — the  retreats  of  shame  and 
guilt, — ah  !  and  they  are  retreats  which  their  own 
hands,  their  own  crimes,  have  built.  Those  who 
are  under  the  influence  of  intellectual  mania  are 
generally  blind  to  their  miseries  ;  they  are  fre- 
quently joyful  and  happy  in  their  lunacy;  but 
those  who  are  under  the  influence  of  moral  ma- 
15* 


170  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

ma  are  not  often  so  highly  favored ;  if  they  are 
blind  to  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  they  are  not  to 
its  miseries ;  memory  and  conscience  are  at  work 
within,  and  they  haunt  and  torment  him,  not  with 
the  mere  spectres,  but  the  realities,  of  their  guilt. 
Such  is  the  nature  of  sin.  It  is  moral  insanity — 
moral  derangement.  Man  is  made  upright,  in  the 
image  of  God.  He  has  a  moral  nature,  and  it 
should  hold  the  ascendency  over  his  animal  im- 
pulses and  earthly  interests,  and  regulate  all  his 
conduct  by  the  great  principles  of  justice  and 
benevolence  toward  man,  and  of  reverence  toward 
God.  While  he  does  this,  he  has  moral  soundness 
of  mind ;  every  faculty  is  in  a  healthy  and  har- 
monious action ;  virtue  is  loved  and  sought  as  the 
true  good,  vice  looked  upon  with  loathing  and 
horror,  and  he  is  in  his  right  mind  on  all  subjects 
relating  to  duty  and  the  true  welfare  of  his  being. 
But  when  this  divine  order  is  broken,  and  the 
animal  nature  gets  the  ascendency  over  the  moral, 
his  moral  powers  are  in  a  state  of  derangement ; 
he  is  insane  in  regard  to  his  duty  and  the  means 
of  happiness  ;  he  prefers  the  path  of  vice  to  that 
of  virtue ;  he  leaves  the  lovely  mansion  of  right- 
eousness, and  treads  the  barren  wastes  of  sin  in 
pursuit  of  enjoyment ;  and  he  spends  his  powers 
in  animal  pleasures  and  sensual  degradation.  Such 


STN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  171 

is  sin.  It  is  moral  derangement.  Will  you  mark 
this?  Sin  is  derangement  in  the  moral  nature. 
It  is  not,  then,  inherent  and  natural,  as  our  divines 
have  told  us  ;  it  is  not  the  legitimate  fruit  of  our 
nature ;  it  is  the  abuse,  corruption,  derangement 
of  our  nature.  "  To  sin  is  to  resist  our  sense  of 
right,  to  oppose  known  obligations,  to  cherish 
feelings,  or  commit  deeds,  which  we  know  to  be 
wrong.  It  is  to  withhold  from  God  the  rever- 
ence, gratitude,  and  obedience  which  our  own 
consciences  pronounce  to  be  due  to  that  great 
and  good  Being.  It  is  to  transgress  those  laws  of 
equity,  justice,  candor,  humanity,  benevolence, 
which  we  all  feel  to  belong  and  to  answer  to  our 
various  social  relations.  It  is  to  yield  ourselves  to 
those  appetites  which  we  know  to  be  the  inferior 
principles  of  our  nature,  to  give  the  body  a  mastery 
over  the  mind,  to  sacrifice  the  intellect  and  heart 
to  the  senses,  to  surrender  ourselves  to  ease  and 
indulgence,  or  to  prefer  outward  accumulation  and 
power  to  strength  and  peace  of  conscience,  to 
progress  toward  perfection.  Such  is  sin.  It  is 
voluntary  wrong-doing,"  with  the  idea  that  it  will 
lead  to  happiness. 

How  clearly  is  all  this  set  forth  in  the  case  of 
the  Prodigal  Son!  That  young  man  had  a  joyful 
home  and  a  kind  father,  and  every  means  of  en- 


172  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

joyment  were  at  his  command.  It  would  seem 
that  he  had  nothing  to  do,  in  order  to  be  happy, 
but  to  be  contented,  to  stay  at  home,  and  to  obey 
the  parental  requirements,  which  were  not  griev- 
ous, which  were  indeed  made  for  his  own  good. 
But  a  strange  hallucination  came  over  him.  He 
became  discontented,  and  resolved  to  leave  his 
home.  He  thought  himself  wiser  than  his  father. 
He  preferred  the  gratification  of  his  appetites  and 
passions  to  moral  obedience,  and  he  went  forth  to 
waste  his  substance  with  harlots  and  riotous  living. 
II.  From  the  nature,  let  us  turn  to  the  causes 
of  the  dreadful  malady  we  are  considering.  Sin 
is  a  moral  derangement,  which  disturbs  the  action 
of  the  noblest  faculties,  and  leads  its  unfortunate 
victim  to  believe  that  the  way  of  transgression  is 
the  path  of  happiness.  What  is  the  cause  or 
causes  of  this  sad  derangement?  Much  has  been 
said  in  the  theological  world  about  the  origin  of 
sin,  and  many  are  the  theories  which  have  been 
framed  to  account  for  it.  The  most  common  one 
supposes  that  all  sin  had  its  origin  in  heaven — that 
one  of  the  angels  of  God  in  that  high  and  holy 
place  became  overcharged  with  pride,  and  was 
cast  out  as  a  sinner,  and  that  he  has  since  wan- 
dered up  and  down  in  the  universe,  seeking  whom 
he  might  lead  to  ruin ;  and  it  is  contended  that 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  173 

mankind  sin,  in  consequence  of  being  tempted  by 
this  devil.  But  we  do  not  see  the  necessity  of 
looking  so  high  to  find  the  origin  of  sin.  If  sin 
had  its  source  in  heaven,  we  cannot  see  why  our 
earth  should  receive  so  much  condemnation.  And 
if  man  sins  because  of  the  influence  of  a  personal 
devil,  why  fasten  the  guilt  upon  him  ?  If  he  sins 
by  being  tempted  of  a  devil,  the  devil  would  be  a 
convenient  scape-goat  on  which  to  bear  away  his 
guilt.  There  is  a  more  rational  way.  I  believe 
that  the  time  has  been  when  intellectual  insanity  was 
generally  thought  to  be  the  work  of  some  foreign  evil 
being  ;  they  looked  upon  the  raving  maniac,  and 
being  ignorant  of  the  laws  and  operations  of  the 
mind,  they  could  not  account  for  it,  except  on  the 
supposition  that  some  malignant,  personal  agent 
had  done  it ;  and  I  presume  that  there  are  thou- 
sands in  the  world  who  entertain  the  same  opinion: 
But  men  of  intelligence  and  science  find  no  diffi- 
culty now  in  accounting  for  this  awful  disease, 
without  referring  it  to  the  influence  of  such  an 
agent :  they  see  that  it  is  no  more  nor  less  than 
the  derangement  of  one  or  more  of  the  intellectual 
faculties,  and  they  understand  that  it  is  caused  by 
some  disappointment  or  unnatural  excitement.  So 
with  moral  insanity.  Many  honest  people  have 
long  supposed  that  it  is  the  work  of  a  personal 


174  SIN    A    MORAL   INSANITY. 

evil  being,  called  the  devil,  and  many  still  hold  the 
same  opinion ;  but  it  would  seem  that  a  little 
knowledge  would  be  sufficient  to  convince  any 
man  that  sin  is  nothing  more  than  a  derangement 
in  the  moral  faculties,  and  that  it  is  caused  by 
deception,  or  by  corrupting  influences  acting  on 
the  mind  and  heart. 

How  is  this  matter  set  forth  in  the  Bible  ? 
Listen,  and  ye  shall  understand  :  "Every  man  is 
tempted,  when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust, 
and  enticed."  Here  animal  appetite  and  decep- 
tion are  held  up  as  the  causes  of  sin,  not  a  personal 
devil.  And  so  the  matter  is  represented  through- 
out the  Scriptures.  A  serpent,  we  know,  is  men- 
tioned as  the  agent  of  transgression  in  the  rosy 
bowers  of  Eden, — and  some  have  said  that  this 
serpent  was  a  personal  devil  ;  but  what  more  ap- 
propriate figure  could  have  been  used  to  repre- 
sent the  animal  part  of  man's  nature  ?  It  is  most 
truly  styled  "  the  most  subtle  beast  of  the  field," 
and  when  left  to  itself,  it  is  groveling  in  its  pur- 
suits ;  it  crawls  upon  the  earth,  and  it  eats  dust 
all  the  days  of  its  life.  It  is  true,  also,  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  said  to  have  been  tempted  of  the  devil, 
and  we  admit  that  he  was,  when  the  term  devil  is 
used  in  its  Scriptural  import,  as  signifying  an  ad- 
versary, wrong  spirit,  or  wayward  propensity  ;  and 


SIN    A    MORAL   INSANITY.  175 

in  this  sense  the  Apostle  plainly  understood  the 
temptation  of  Christ,  when  he  said  of  him,  "  He 
was  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  yet  with- 
out sin."  He  had  all  the  appetites  and  propensi- 
ties common  to  our  nature,  and  they  tempted  him 
to  tread  the  ways  of  sin,  but  he  had  too  much 
knowledge  to  be  deceived,  and  he  escaped. 

What,  then,  are  the  causes  of  sin  ?  The  an- 
swer is  a  plain  one.  They  are  unlawful  appetite 
and  mental  deception.  "  Every  man  is  tempted, 
when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust,  and  en- 
ticed ;  and  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth 
forth  sin."  Man  does  not  sin  because  he  has  an 
inherent  love  of  it  in  his  nature.  No,  surely  not. 
The  love  of  virtue  is  strong  within  him ;  he  has  a 
deep  thirst  for  purity  and  perfection  ;  but  while 
he  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  him. 
While  he  has  moral  faculties  which  have  an  up- 
ward, elevating  tendency,  he  has  animal  appetites 
which  have  a  downward,  degrading  tendency  ; 
they  clamor  for  present  and  sensual  gratifications  ; 
and  they  would  persuade  him  that  these  are  more 
conducive  to  his  happiness  than  devotion  to  moral 
principles  ;  and  when  they  succeed  in  this,  he  is 
under  the  influence  of  moral  insanity ;  he  loses  a 
just  sense  of  the  evil  of  sin ;  dead  to  virtue,  he 
looks  upon  it  as  the  way  to  happiness,  and  he  is 


176  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

ready  to  commit  all  iniquity  with  greediness.  So 
it  was  with  mother  Eve.  "  The  woman,  being  de- 
ceived, was  in  the  transgression."  And  so  with 
the  Prodigal  Son.  When  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  quit  home,  and  said,  "  Father,  give  me  the  por- 
tion of  goods  that  falleth  to  me,"  and  when  he 
"  gathered  all  together,"  and  bade  farewell  to  the 
household,  "  and  took  his  journey  into  a  far  coun- 
try," ah  !  poor  deceived  boy,  he  little  knew  what 
he  was  about :  he  thought  he  was  wiser  than  his 
father,  and  he  supposed  that  he  was  entering  on  a 
glorious  and  happy  career.  He  shed  no  bitter 
tears  to  leave  behind  him  his  father  and  the  family ; 
he  went  forth  with  a  proud  step  and  a  joyous 
heart,  and  when  the  parental  mansion  faded  from 
his  view  in  the  dim  distance,  he  hardly  cast  "  one 
lingering  look  behind  ;  he  heaved  not  a  sigh,  and 
shed  not  a  tear,  but  pressed  on  with  a  bold  and 
hurried  step,  in  the  conviction  that  he  should  find 
a  better  home  and  a  greater  good  than  he  had  left 
behind  him. 

And  here  you  may  mark  the  symptoms,  as  well 
as  the  causes,  of  the  malady  under  consideration. 
Does  a  man  lack  confidence  in  virtue  to  make  him 
happy  ?  Does  he  talk  of  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and 
of  the  hardships  and  perils  of  righteousness  ? 
Does  he  think  more  of  dollars  and  cents  than  he 


SIN    A   MORAL    INSANITY.  177 

does  of  the  demands  of  duty  and  truth  ?  And 
does  he  say  that  he  would  drink  iniquity  like  wa- 
ter, and  deal  largely  in  transgression,  if  he  did  not 
fear  the  flames  of  a  future  and  foreign  hell? 
These  are  the  certain  symptoms  of  his  moral  in- 
sanity ;  they  are  sure  proofs  that  his  moral  sense 
is  deranged,  and  that  he  contemplates  leaving  the 
mansion  of  virtue,  and  going  into  a  far  country. 

III.  What  are  the  real  consequences  of  moral 
insanity  ?     What  are  the  effects  of  sin? 

There  seem  to  be  some  who  consider  sin  as  a 
very  little  thing,  and  who  imagine  that  there  are 
no  direct  and  natural  consequences  flowing  from 
it,  which  make  it  an  object  of  so  much  concern. 
But  is  not  insanity  a  great  evil  ?  When  a  friend 
of  yours  is  seized  with  derangement  of  intellect, 
and  you  witness  the  strange  workings  of  his  luna- 
cy, do  you  not  feel  that  you  could  have  borne  it 
with  greater  patience,  if  it  had  been  any  bodily 
disease — if  the  mind  had  been  spared  ?  And  if 
you  were  in  your  right  mind,  if  you  had  a  true 
sense  of  the  evil  which  sin  does  to  human  nature 
and  human  society,  you  would  feel  still  worse  to 
know  that  that  friend,  though  sound  in  intellect, 
was  morally  insane, — that  though  his  reason  was 
clear  and  strong,  his  moral  affections  were  de- 
praved and  corrupted. 
16 


178  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

Look  into  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  first  trans- 
gressors were  so  deceived  as  to  suppose  that  the 
forbidden  fruit  would  promote  their  spiritual 
health,  but  no  sooner  did  they  eat  it  than  they 
found  it  poison  and  wormwood  to  all  the  fountains 
of  their  enjoyment.  What  shame,  regret,  and  re- 
morse did  they  experience !  There  is  both  nature 
and  Scripture  in  Milton's  description  of  their  moral 
condition. 


"  Not  at  rest,  or  ease  of  mind, 


They  sat  them  down  to  weep ;  nor  only  tears 
Rain'd  at  their  eyes,  but  high  winds  rose  within ; 
Began  to  rise,  high  passions,  anger,  hate, 
Mistrust,  suspicion,  discord,  and  shook  sore 
Their  inward  stato  of  mind,  calm  region  once, 
And  full  of  peace,  w«re  toss'd  and  turbulent ; 
For  understanding  rul'd  not,  and  the  will 
Heard  not  her  lore,  both  in  subjection  now 
To  sensual  appetite,  who  from  beneath, 
Usurping  over  sov'roign  reason,  claim'd 
Superior  sway." 

And  how  vividly  are  the  same  sad  effects  of  sin 
pictured  in  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal !  Although 
he  commenced  his  journey  with  the  idea  that  it 
would  be  a  land  of  plenty,  of  sunshine  and  roses, 
when  he  got  fairly  into  it,  he  learned  his  mistake. 
The  patrimony  of  his  father  was  soon  spent ;  a 
mighty  famine  came  over  the  land,  "and  he  began 
to  be  in  want.  And  he  went  and  joined  himself 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  179 

to  a  citizen  of  that  country,"  as  the  only  means  of 
supporting  life ;  "  and  he  sent  him  into  his  field  to 
feed  swine.  And  he  would  fain  have  filled  his 
belly  with  the  husks  which  the  swine  did  eat,  and 
no  man  gave  unto  him."  0,  how  degrading  is 
the  service  of  sin  !  It  is  compared  to  the  lowest 
business  which  the  world  knows — the  feeding  of 
swine.  And  how  full  of  want  and  suffering! 
"  He  would  have  fain  eat  the  husks  which  the  swine 
did  eat,  and  no  man  gave  unto  him."  Naked, 
hungry,  friendless,  and  forlorn,  what  could  he  do  ? 
Ah !  there  was  one  thing  that  he  could  now  do, 
and  he  did  it.  He  began  to  think  of  his  folly.  He 
called  to  mind  the  joyful  home  he  had  forsaken, 
and  contrasted  its  splendid  apartments  and  rich 
viands  with  the  degradation,  and  want,  and  filth 
which  now  surrounded  him.  And  he  understood 
the  matter.  He  could  no  longer  be  deceived. 
He  came  to  himself.  He  saw  that  obedience  was 
the  only  way  in  which  to  be  happy,  and  he  felt 
that  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard.  And  in 
what  plaintive  eloquence  did  he  pour  forth  his  soul 
upon  the  field  of  his  degrading  toil !  "And  when 
he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  How  many  hired 
servants  of  my  father  have  bread  enough  and  to 
spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger?  I  will  arise  and 
go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I 


180  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  before  thee,  and 
am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son ;  make 
me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants.  And  he  arose, 
and  came  to  his  father." 

Such  are  the  effects  of  sin.  This  disease  of  the 
soul  deranges  its  divine  powers,  binds  its  victims 
in  the  most  woful  slavery — the  slavery  of  the  dis- 
ordered passions, — and  although  it  teaches  them 
their  folly,  so  much  as  to  induce  them  to  renounce 
sin,  it  fastens  upon  them  the  conviction  that  their 
sinfulness  destroys  their  sonship,  and  that  they 
can  receive  no  favors  in  future  from  the  hand  of 
God,  except  such  as  they  earn  by  their  own  ex- 
ertions. This  leads  us  to  consider, 

IV.  The  treatment  and  cure  of  the  disease 
we  have  been  considering. 

Moral  insanity,  we  very  well  know,  is  a  most 
dreadful  disease,  and  the  wisdom  of  philosophers, 
and  even  of  doctors  of  divinity,  has  been  baffled 
in  their  attempts  to  remove  it  from  the  vitals  of 
suffering  humanity.  But  there  is  an  arm  higher 
than  that  of  man's.  He  who  made  man,  and  who 
knew  that  moral  mechanism  would  become  de- 
ranged by  exposure  to  temptation,  has  provided 
a  remedy  for  this  worst  of  all  maladies,  in  the 
Gospel  of  his  Son,  and  whoever  will  acquaint 
himself  with  the  remedy,  and  use  it  according  to 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.'  181 

the  Divine  prescriptions,  may  be  healed,  and  restor- 
ed to  moral  health  and  life.  Jesus  Christ  is  styled 
the  Physician,  and  he  still  has  power  to  speak  to 
the  moral  lunatic,  cast  out  the  evil  demon,  and 
clothe  him  in  his  right  mind. 

But  there  has  been  much  ignorance  and  scepti- 
cism in  regard  to  this  matter.  Sin,  it  is  said,  is  an 
infinite  crime ;  it  is  rebellion  against  God ;  and 
how  can  he  look  down  upon  its  subjects  with  the 
smiles  of  his  favor,  treat  them  in  the  spirit  of  kind- 
ness, and  give  them  means  of  relief  ?  God  hates 
sinners,  and  unless  they  do  something  to  gain  his 
favor,  he  will  shut  them  up  in  the  mad-house  of 
hell,  and  compel  them  to  be  moral  maniacs,  and 
howl  out  their  miseries  through  unwasting  ages ! 
This  has  been  the  common  doctrine.  We  think  it 
has  arisen  from  ignorance  of  the  disease  and  of  the 
remedy.  The  disease  is  a  moral  insanity,  and  the 
remedy  is  the  love  of  God.  The  insane  man  is 
more  an  object  of  compassion  than  of  indignation, 
and  mild  and  merciful  treatment  will  have  a  bet- 
ter influence  on  him  than  harshness  and  severity. 
The  moral  lunatic  is  deceived ;  he  thinks  that  sin 
is  better  than  righteousness,  and  he  looks  upon 
•his  best  friend  as  his  worst  enemy,  and  if  he  is 
not  dealt  kindly  with  and  in  the  spirit  of  love,  he 
will  be  driven  into  worse  and  worse  stages  of  de- 
16* 


182  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

rangement.  The  time  was  when  intellectual  in- 
sanity was  thought  to  be  incurable.  The  most 
that  was  done  to  its  unfortunate  victims  was,  to 
confine  them  in  mad-houses,  fasten  them  in  fetters 
and  stocks,  and  keep  them  from  doing  injury.  And 
this  is  about  the  extent  of  God's  wisdom  and  pow- 
er in  the  treatment  of  the  morally  insane,  accord- 
ing to  a  popular  doctrine  !  Because  of  their  aber- 
rations, he  will  confine  them  in  an  eternal  mad- 
house, pronounce  their  cure  impossible,  and  make 
it  their  everlasting  business  to  bite  their  fetters 
and  gnaw  their  chains.  Man,  however,  has  finally 
gone  beyond  this.  It  has  been  found  out  that  in- 
tellectual insanity  is  not  altogether  a  hopeless  dis- 
ease ;  for  though  the  skill  of  man  has  not  yet  suc- 
ceeded in  efforts  to  cure  it  in  all  cases,  it  has  done 
much  to  remove  the  awfulness  of  the  malady,  and 
restore  its  subjects.  And  how  has  this  progress 
been  made  ?  By  the  progress  of  knowledge  and 
the  influence  of  love.  Thanks  to  the  benevolence 
and  energy  of  Final  and  his  successors,  who  went 
into  the  mad-houses,  where  the  insane  were  con- 
fined in  darkness  and  in  chains,  talked  with  them 
in  the  tones  of  tenderness  and  love,  and  in  many 
cases  restored  them  to  soundness  of  mind,  and  led 
them  forth  into  the  light  of  day  and  the  sunshine 
of  reason.  From  this  spirit  has  sprung  our  Insane 


SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY.  183 

Retreats,  where  these  unfortunate  beings  can  have 
a  comfortable  home,  and  where  many  of  them,  at 
least,  can  be  restored  by  the  kind  and  affectionate 
treatment  which  is  now  applied  for  their  relief. 
And  will  not  mankind  soon  believe  that  the  skill 
and  treatment  of  the  Divine  Physician  are  fully 
equal  to  this, — that  he  has  power,  and  that  he 
will  use  it  to  tame  the  wild  workings  of  the  human 
passions,  and  to  restore  the  morally  insane  to  their 
right  mind  ?  We  cannot  question  it.  "  His  arm 
is  not  shortened,  that  it  cannot  save." 

Look  once  more  into  the  history  of  the  Prodigal. 
You  will  see  that  there  were  two  means  by  which 
he  was  weaned  from  sin,  and  restored  to  obedi- 
ence. One  was  punishment,  or  the  want  and  the 
sorrow  which  were  the  effects  of  his  folly;  the 
other  was  the  exhibition  of  his  father's  compassion 
and  love  to  him.  The  first  convinced  him  that  sin 
was  the  way  of  misery,  and  induced  him  to  retrace 
his  steps ;  the  second  convinced  him  that  his  trans- 
gression had  not  extinguished  the  love  of  his  fa- 
ther, and  restored  him  to  confidence  and  obedience. 
Mark  the  poor  creature.  Convinced  of  the  evil  of 
sin,  he  sets  out  on  a  return  to  his  home.  He 
thinks  of  the  bounty  and  happiness  which  he  had 
left  there,  but  he  awfully  fears  that  his  disobedi- 
ence has  had  a  sad  influence  on  his  father,  and 


184  SIN    A    MORAL    INSANITY. 

that  he  will  not  meet  him  and  own  him  as  a  son. 
He  drags  himself  toward  the  parental  mansion,  ex- 
pecting that  his  father  will  meet  him  with  frowns, 
and  the  most  which  he  dare  promise  himself  is, 
that  he  will  be  received  as  a  servant,  and  be  put 
to  work  for  his  daily  wages.  But  as  he  comes  in 
sight  of  the  house  with  a  feeble  step  and  a  trem- 
bling heart,  does  his  father  meet  him  with  a  ter- 
rible rod  and  a  withering  frown  ?  No,  no.  If  he 
had,  the  sun  would  have  turned  from  him  at  once. 
"  But  when  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his  father 
saw  him,  and  had  compassion  on  him,  and  ran  and 
fell  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.  And  the  son 
said  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heav- 
en, and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to 
be  called  thy  son.  But  the  father  said  to  his  ser- 
vants, Bring  forth  the  best  robe  and  put  it  on  him, 
and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet ; 
and  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf  and  kill  it ;  and 
let  us  eat  and  be  merry  ;  for  this  my  son  was  dead, 
and  is  alive  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found.  And 
they  began  to  be  merry."  Soon,  however,  the 
joys  of  the  occasion  were  marred  by  a  paroxyism 
of  madness  in  the  elder  brother,  who,  under  the 
mistaken  notion  that  virtue  is  hard  work  and  poor 
pay,  complained  that  this  wandering  brother  was 
received  into  equal  favor  with  himself,  who  had 


SIN    A   MORAL    INSANITY.  185 

stayed  at  home  all  the  time,  and  labored  hard  in 
the  field.  But  the  father  argued  the  case  with 
him,  saying,  "  Son,  thou  art  ever  with  me,  and 
all  that  I  have  is  thine.  It  was  meet  that  we 
should  make  merry,  and  be  glad;  for  this  thy 
brother  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again ;  and  was  lost 
and  is  found." 

Thus  it  is  that  God  treats  his  disobedient  chil- 
dren. He  attaches  such  consequences  to  sin,  that 
they  soon  learn  that  there  is  no  happiness  but  in 
the  way  of  obedience ;  and  when  they  return  to 
Him,  burdened,  oppressed  with  their  guilty  fears, 
he  meets  them  in  the  smiles  of  his  ever-reconciled, 
benignant  countenance,  woos  them  to  his  man- 
sions by  the  influence  of  his  love,  clothes  them 
in  their  right  mind ;  and  if  any  complain  at 
the  mercy  of  his  dealings,  he  pleads  with  them, 
vindicates  his  ways,  and  persuades  them  to  be  rec  - 
onciled  to  the  equality  of  his  government. 

Hearer,  bind  this  lesson  to  thy  heart.  God 
hath  given  thee  a  moral  nature,  and  it  is  "  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit," — it  is  moral  insanity,  to 
expect  to  find  happiness  in  anything  but  virtue. 
"  He  that  is  wise,  shall  be  wise  for  himself." 


THE  EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST. 

• 

"  We  have  not  a  High-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  -with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempted 
like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin." — Hebrews  iv.,  15. 

THAT  man  has  not  traveled  far  on  the  journey 
of  human  life,  or  he  has  been  a  very  careless  ob- 
server, who  has  not  discovered  that  the  road  which 
mortals  tread  is  beset  with  difficulties,  dangers, 
trials.  As  a  general  thing,  there  is  doubtless  more  of 
good  than  evil,  more  of  pleasure  than  pain,  in  it ; 
and  the  light  and  joyous  heart  of  youth  is  extremely 
apt  to  look  upon  it  as  a  continuous  scene  of  delight 
and  joy  ;  but  it  is  the  solemn  testimony  of  expe- 
rience, that  "  each  pleasure  hath  its  poison,  too, 
and  every  sweet  its  snare."  Inquire  of  those  who 
best  know — the  aged,  whose  locks  have  been 
bleached  by  the  dews  of  threescore  years  and  ten, 
and  they  will  tell  you  that  the  journey  of  life, 
from  the  cradle  even  to  the  grave,  is  literally  filled 
with  dangers  and  obstacles,  and  that  the  traveler 
needs  all  the  wisdom  he  can  get,  and  all  the  helps 
at  his  command,  in  order  to  shun  the  perils  to 
which  he  is  exposed,  and  secure  to  himself  safety 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  187 

and  happiness.  At  every  step  of  his  progress,  he 
is  met  with  the  allurements  of  vice,  and  if  he 
yields  to  their  pleasant  and  enticing  voices,  he  is 
led  into  dark  wilds  and  dreary  deserts  ;  and  at  in- 
tervals, not  distant  from  each  other,  he  is  visited 
with  the  storms  of  adversity  ;  his  fellow-pilgrims 
fall  and  die  around  him,  leaving  him  almost  alone 
to  bear  the  burdens  of  life  ;  and  if  he  gives  him- 
self up  to  the  influence  of  despair,  and  his  mind 
is  not  blessed  with  light  and  hope,  he  is,  of  all 
creatures,  most  miserable. 

And  while  there  are  difficulties  and  dangers  all 
along  in  the  journey  of  human  life  ;  while  it  is 
filled  with  the  temptations  of  vice,  and  it  is  swept 
by  the  storms  of  adversity,  how  weak,  how  feeble 
is  our  nature  !  Strong  as  we  may  sometimes  feel, 
able  as  we  may  think  we  are,  we  are  poor,  frail, 
feeble  creatures.  We  are  children.  We  can 
hardly  go.  We  stumble  almost  at  every  step. 
Yet  we  talk  of  our  strength.  We  say  we  are  in- 
tellectual and  moral  beings;  we  affirm  that  we 
have  the  powers  of  reason,  and  that  conscience 
and  our  moral  resolutions  are  sufficient  to  guide 
us.  In  this  we  tell  some  truth,  doubtless,  but  not 
the  whole  of  it.  Reason  is  surely  given  us,  and 
conscience  is  a  noble  power  within  us ;  but  this 
reason  is  not  .always  very  well  enlightened,  and 


188  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

this  conscience  is  not  the  only  power  that  is  lodged 
in  our  nature.  We  are  formed  with  "passions 
wild  and  strong,"  with  animal  appetites  and  carnal 
propensities,  and  they  are  so  clamorous  for  imme- 
diate gratification,  that  they  often  blind  the  rea- 
son and  stupefy  the  conscience,  and  urge  us  into 
ruinous  paths.  Thanks  to  God  for  our  nature,  we 
were  made  for  virtue ;  we  would  do  good  ;  all  our 
higher  powers  love  moral  excellence,  and  we  seek 
it  as  our  "  being's  end  and  aim."  But  ah  !  we 
are  weak.  We  can  think  right ;  we  can  resolve 
nobly  ;  but  while  we  would  do  good,  evil  is  with 
us.  How  to  perform,  we  find  harder  than  to  will. 
The  infirmities  of  our  nature  are  too  much  for  us. 
Though  the  spirit  is  willing,  the  flesh  is  weak  ;  and 
we  are  easily  overcome  by  the  dangers  and  diffi- 
culties that  lie  on  our  road,  and  sunk  under  the 
burdens  which  Providence  has  laid  upon  our 
shoulders. 

What,  then,  is  the  highest  want  of  our  nature  ? 
What  is  it  that  we  need  more  than  everything  else, 
in  order  that  we  may  be  able  to  meet  the  evils  to 
which  we  are  exposed,  and  gain  the  victory  over 
them  ?  You  must  all  see.  It  is  SYMPATHY.  "  It 
is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone."  He  is  too  weak 
to  be  successful  in  his  struggle  with  the  world, 
without  help.  He  needs  the  sympathy  and  en- 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  189 

couragement  of  a  kindred  being — a  being  who 
knows  his  weaknesses  and  wants — one  who  can  be 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  his  infirmities,  and 
breathe   encouragement    and    strength   into   his 
thoughts  and  resolutions  ;  yea,  he  needs  a  com- 
panion on  the  journey  of  life,  who  will  not  only 
have  a  nature  like  his  own,  and  sympathize  with 
him  in  all  his  trials  and  conflicts,  but  one  who  un- 
derstands all  the  windings  and  obstacles  in  the 
road  on  which  he  has  entered,  who  has  borne  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  who  has  gotten 
the  victory  over  all  the  evils  to  which  poor,  weak 
humanity  is  subject.     And  when  he  finds  himself 
in  the  company  of  such  a  being,  he  can  look  upon 
the  journey  before  him,  dark  and  rugged  though 
it  be,  and  smile  ;  he  knows  that  the  eye  of  One 
is  upon  him  who  cares  for  him,  and  into  whose  ear 
his  wants  will   not  be   whispered  in  vain ;  the 
weakness  of  his  nature  will  be  fortified,  and  he 
will  be  prepared  for  triumph  over  the  evils  of  life. 
Now  such  a  companion  is  given  to  the  faith  of 
man  in  the  Gospel  of  our  salvation.     It  is  the 
man  Christ  Jesus.     It  was  the  highest  purpose  of 
His  mission  to  give  man  what  he  most  needed — a 
perfect  example,  to  show  man,  in  a  way  which  he 
could  understand,  what  he  was  made  for,  and  how 
he  should  act,  and  by  what  means  he  can  over- 
17 


190  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

come  the  world.  He  came  forth  from  the  mys- 
terious depths  of  infinity,  to  reveal  the  great  pur- 
pose and  end  of  Humanity  ;  and  to  do  this,  it  was 
necessary  that  He  should  be  clothed  with  the  at- 
tributes of  humanity,  and  to  be  a  partaker  of  all 
the  infirmities,  as  well  as  all  the  sublimities,  of  our 
nature.  And  it  was  so.  While  He  was  the  Son 
of  God,  He  was  the  Son  of  man.  While  He  had 
His  commission  from  Heaven,  He  had  a  nature  of 
the  earth.  He  was  perfect  human  nature,  inspired 
of  God — inspired  to  tell  man  what  his  nature  is, 
and  what  his  conduct  should  be.  And  as  He  wore 
human  nature,  and  felt  all  its  infirmities,  man  can 
turn  to  Him,  and  find  sympathy  and  encourage- 
ment in  all  his  trials  and  sufferings. 

But  I  will  not  keep  you  longer  from  the  lan- 
guage of  an  Apostle  : — "  We  have  not  a  High- 
Priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of 
our  infirmities  ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like 
as  we  are,  yet  without  sin."  You  cannot  fail  to 
notice  that  the  Apostle  places  the  value  of  the 
example  of  Christ  in  the  idea,  that  His  nature  was 
human,  and  that  He  hence  felt  all  the  infirmities 
and  temptations  common  to  man.  His  meaning  is 
doubtless  brought  out  more  distinctly  in  the  trans- 
lation of  Macknight : — "  We  have  not  a  High- 
Priest  who  cannot  sympathize  with  our  weakness, 


~;:^P 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  191 

but  ONE  WHO  was  tempted  in  all  points  according 
to  the  likeness  OF  His  NATURE  TO  OURS,  without 
sin." — Mark.  "  He  was  tempted  in  all  points  AC- 
CORDING to  the  likeness  o/"His  NATURE  TO  OURS." 
This  makes  it  very  strong  that  He  had  a  purely 
human  nature,  but  it  is  not  stronger  than  it  is 
made  by  the  Apostle  in  another  place  : — "  He 
took  not  on  Him  the  nature  of  angels ;  but  He 
took  on  Him  the  seed  of  Abraham.  Wherefore, 
it  behooved  Him  to  be  made  like  unto  His  brethren, 
that  He  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  High- 
Priest  in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make  recon- 
ciliation for  the  sins  of  the  people.  For  in  that 
He  himself  hath  suffered  being  tempted,  He  is 
able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted." 

The  Church  has  taught  quite  another  doctrine. 
There  is  an  old  creed  which  still  says,  "  Christ  is 
very  and  eternal  God."  It  is  very  widely  affirmed 
that  the  Son  of  God  is  the  Father,  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  infinite  Jehovah  !  We  will  not  now 
quote  the  divine  testimony  against  this  notion  ;  we 
will  not  here  call  in  question  the  truth  of  this  doc- 
trine ;  but  we  will  say  that  this  view  of  Christ 
deprives  his  example  of  its  beauty  and  fitness  as  a 
guide  for  man.  The  example  of  a  God  would  no 
doubt  be  a  good  one ;  it  might  give  a  presenta- 
tion of  infinite  perfection ;  but  it  would  be  above 


192  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

us  ;  it  would  not  be  adapted  to  the  weakness  of 
our  nature,  and  we  could  derive  no  essential  aid 
from  it.  We  should  say,  "  God  is  in  heaven,  we 
are  on  earth  :  he  never  knew  the  weakness  of  our 
nature,  and  he  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
of  our  infirmities  ;  it  cannot  be  that  He  ever  felt 
the  temptations  which  take  hold  of  our  feeble  na- 
ture, and  his  example,  bright  and  glorious  though 
it  be,  does  not  meet  our  wants.  We  want  the  ex- 
ample of  one  who  bore  our  common  nature, — who 
felt  the  workings  of  our  sinful  impulses  and 
passions,  but  who  restrained  them,  who  experi- 
enced all  the  sorrows  which  we  are  born  to,  but 
who  overcame  them ;  and  such  an  example  we 
must  have,  or  the  greatest  call  of  our  nature  can 
have  no  answer."  Can  we  have  it  ?  Not  in 
Christ,  according  to  Trinitarianism,  for  it  says  that 
he  was  really  the  eternal  God.  But,  to  help  the 
matter,  it  is  said  that  he  had  two  natures,  one 
divine,  one  human.  The  old  creed  used  to  read, 
— and  I  think  it  still  reads,  "  Jesus  Christ  was 
perfect  God  and  perfect  man."  We  will  not  stop 
here  to  prove  that  this  is  not  true,  (though  it  is  a 
little  strange  that  we  find  nothing  in  the  New 
Testament  about  his  having  two  natures,  on  the 
supposition  that  it  is  ti*ue,)  but  you  must  all  see 
that  this  view  of  Christ  takes  away  the  value 


THE    EXAMPLE    OP    CHRIST.  193 

and  efficiency  of  his  example.  If  he  had  two  dis- 
tinct natures,  one  making  him  a  "perfect  God," 
and  the  other  a  "  perfect  man,"  a  part  of  his 
character  would  answer  my  wants,  it  is  true, — the 
human,  but  the  other  part — the  divine — the  God 
would  be  above  the  reach  of  my  infirmities,  and 
it  would  have  the  influence  to  destroy  the  power 
of  the  other  portion  of  his  character  over  me.  I 
should  say  within  myself,  "  If  he  had  two  natures, 
while  I  have  but  one,  how  can  I  be  required  to 
imitate  him  ?  True,  he  showed  that  he  felt  my 
infirmities  in  his  human  nature,  and  he  has  given 
me  a  perfect  example,  but  how  do  I  know  but 
what  his  human  nature  was  governed  by  the  di- 
vine ;  and  if  it  was,  his  case  was  not  like  mine  ; 
he  was  a  God,  while  I  am  a  man,  and  his  exam- 
ple is  not  suited  to  my  wants  and  condition.  I 
want  one  for  an  example  who  had  just  such  a 
nature  as  my  own,  who  was  just  such  a  being  as 
myself  in  thought  and  feeling, — in  everything,  ex- 
cept in  extent  of  knowledge ;  and  when  I  see  such 
a  being  resisting  the  power  of  sin,  and  treading 
the  sorrows  of  the  woild  under  his  feet,  I  can  un- 
derstand him,  and  I  can  draw  from  his  example 
a  moral  power  which  will  make  me  strong  in  my 
conflict  with  the  evils  that  beset  my  pathway." 
And  such  a  being  I  find  in  the  New  Testament. 
17* 


194  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIS 

He  was  "  the  man  Christ  Jesus," — not  the  God 
Christ  Jesus !  He  was  "  a  man  APPROVED  OF  GOD 
by  miracles,  and  wonders,  and  signs,  which  GOD 
DID  BY  HIM," — not  a  God  approved  of  men  for 
the  miracles  and  wonders  which  he  did  by  him- 
self! True,  he  had  divine  endowments,  but  his 
nature  was  human.  He  had  miraculous  power, 
and  miraculous  knowledge  ;  but  they  were  not 
original  with  him;  he  received  them  from  the 
Father ;  and  his  own  powers  and  feelings  were 
like  our  own,  made  after  the  pattern  of  humanity, 
as  fashioned  in  the  first  man.  And  as  such,  he 
stands  forth  in  all  his  history.  He  was  like  unto 
his  brethren — the  human  race.  He  grew  up 
among  them  like  a  man ;  he  walked  with  them 
like  a  man,  yea,  he  felt  temptation,  fatigue,  anx- 
iety, sorrow,  and  adversity,  like  a  man.  He  had 
within  him  the  nature  of  a  man  ;  he  had  appetites 
and  propensities,  as  well  as  reason  and  conscience  ; 
and,  in  consequence,  he  was  tempted  in  all  points 
like  as  we  are ;  pleasure  presented  to  him  its  al- 
lurements, wealth  its  coffers,  and  power  its  glory  ; 
yet,  through  obedience  to  his  moral  nature, 
through  devotion  to  God,  truth  and  duty,  through 
watchfulness  and  control  over  his  appetites  and 
passions,  he  came  off  "  without  sin ;"  he  got  the 
victory  over  the  evils  incident  to  humanity,  and 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  195 

thus  showed  man  how  he  can  meet  the  dangers 
and  trials  in  his  path,  and  overcome  the  world. 

In  this  view  of  the  character  of  Christ  lies  the 
power  of  his  example.  "  If  I  regard  Jesus  as  an 
august  stranger,  belonging  to  an  entirely  different 
class  of  existence  from  myself,  having  no  common 
thoughts  or  feelings  with  me,  and  looking  down 
upon  me  with  only  such  a  sympathy  as  I  have 
with  an  inferior  animal,  I  should  regard  him  with 
a  vague  awe ;  but  the  immeasurable  space  be- 
tween us  would  place  him  beyond  friendship  and 
affection.  But  when  I  feel  that  I  have  the  same 
nature  with  him,  and  that  he  came  to  communi- 
cate to  me,  by  his  teaching,  example,  and  inter- 
cession, his  own  mind,  to  bring  me  into  communion 
with  what  was  sublimest,  purest,  happiest  in  him- 
self, then  I  can  love  him  as  I  love  no  other  being, 
excepting  only  Him  who  is  the  Father  alike  of 
Christ  and  of  the  Christian.  With  these  views,  I 
feel  that,  though  ascended  to  Heaven,  he  has  not 
gone  beyond  the  reach  of  our  hearts ;  that  he  has 
now  the  same  interest  in  mankind  as  when  he  en- 
tered their  dwellings,  sat  at  their  tables,  washed 
their  feet ;  and  that  there  is  no  being  so  approach- 
able, none  with  whom  such  unreserved  intercourse 
is  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  future  world." 

But  what  are  the  evils  and  difficulties  to  which 


196  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

we  are  exposed,  and  how  can  we  derive  strength 
from  Christ  sufficient  to  overcome  them  ? 

1.  We  are  exposed  to  sin.  We  would  do 
good,  but  evil  is  present  with  us.  We  delight  in 
the  law  of  God  after  the  inward  man,  but  we  find 
another  law  in  our  members,  warring  against  the 
law  of  our  higher  nature,  and  bringing  us  into 
captivity  to  the  law  of  sin.  We  have  a  deep  and 
strong  love  of  virtue  within  us  ;  we  know  and  feel 
that  it  is  the  chief  good  and  glory  of  our  being ; 
but  how  numerous  and  how  powerful  are  the 
temptations  which  are  presented  to  us  to  lead  us 
astray  !  What  allurements,  baits,  enticements, 
are  placed  all  along  the  path  which  we  tread  ! 

"  Here  danger  like  a  giant  stands, 
Mustering  his  pale,  terrific  bands  ; 
There  pleasure's  silken  banners  spread, 
And  willing  souls  are  captive  led. 

"  See  where  rebellious  passions  rage, 
And  fierce  desires  and  lusts  engage ; 
The  meanest  foe  of  all  the  train 
Has  thousands  and  ten  thousands  slain." 

Sin  meets  us  with  its  enticements  on  every 
hand.  Appetite  calls  for  the  rich  dish  and  the 
sparkling  cup ;  the  dainties  and  luxuries  of  differ- 
ent cjimes  are  placed  before  us,  and  we  are  tempt- 
ed to  make  eating  and  drinking  the  chief  business 
of  life,  to  prefer  the  pleasures  of  the  taste  to  the 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  197 

serener  delights  of  the  mind,  and  to  allow  reason 
and  conscience  to  be  stifled  and  quenched  in  the 
indulgences  of  a  gross  animalism.  The  love  of 
•wealth  calls  for  large  possessions,  and  we  are 
tempted  to  barter  the  durable  riches  of  truth  and 
righteousness  for  the  dust  which  glitters  awhile, 
and  then  takes  to  itself  wings  and  flies  away.  The 
love  of  popularity,  of  power,  and  earthly  domin- 
ion has  a  deep  hold  in  our  nature,  and  we  are 
tempted  to  sacrifice  principle  to  policy,  to  love 
the  praise  of  men  more  than  the  praise  of  God, 
and  to  act  the  part  of  Milton's  Satanic  Majesty, 
and  say, 

"Better  to  reign  in  hell,  than  serve  in  heaven." 

How  can  we  conquer  ?  By  what  means  can 
we  gain  sufficient  strength  to  get  the  victory  over 
all  these  temptations  ?  The  Gospel  points  us  to 
the  Captain  of  our  salvation.  He  has  traveled 
this  road  ;  he  has  known  these  inducements  to  sin  ; 
he  "  was  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are  ;"  and 
yet  he  triumphed ;  he  resisted  the  impulses  of  ap- 
petite, conquered  the  ragings  of  passion,  checked 
and  subdued  the  love  of  worldly  fame  and  glory ; 
he  brought  his  whole  nature  into  conformity  to 
the  will  and  requirements  of  God,  and  thus  gave 
mankind  an  example,  that  they  should  follow  his 


198  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

steps.  O,  what  a  lesson  did  he  give  our  world  in 
the  wilderness  of  temptation  !  What  a  conflict  he 
had  there  with  the  pleasures  and  honors  of  a  cor- 
rupt generation,  and  how  nobly  did  he  triumph  ! 
He  was  first  tempted  to  yield  to  the  gratifications 
of  his  animal  appetites,  rather  than  listen  to  the 
voice  of  moral  virtue ;  he  was  next  tempted  to 
throw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Jewish  aristocracy, 
and  serve  his  country,  in  preference  to  obeying 
the  will  of  his  Father ;  and  he  was  next  tempted 
to  use  his  powers  to  gain  "the  kingdoms  of 
the  world  and  the  glory  of  them,"  instead  of  using 
them  for  the  purpose  for  which  he  had  received 
them,  to  establish  truth  and  righteousness  in  the 
earth.  And  these  are  the  temptations  that  take 
hold  of  our  nature.  We  are  prone  to  let  the  ani- 
mal govern  the  moral,  to  love  policy  more  than 
principle,  to  place  pleasure  before  duty,  to  bow  to 
the  throne  of  worldly  power  rather  than  to  the 
throne  of  God,  and  to  think  more  of  outward  glory 
and  earthly  empire,  than  of  inward  empire  and 
moral  glory.  Here  are  the  springs  of  all  the 
error  and  crime  which  disturb  and  darken  our 
world ;  and  if,  when  we  feel  their  workings  within 
us,  we  would  fix  our  eye  on  him  who  was  "  touch- 
ed with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities," — if  we 
would  mark  his  struggles  against  the  enemy,  and 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  199 

catch  his  spirit,  we  should  gain  from  him  the  pow- 
er of  victory  over  the  adversary  within  us,  ami  be 
able  to  say  to  him,  "  Get  thee  hence,  Satan,  for  it 
is  written,  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God, 
and  him  only  shalt  thou  serve." 

2.  We  may  derive  aid  from  Christ  in  seasons 
of  suffering  and  adversity. 

You  all  know,  my  friends,  that  this  is  a  world 
not  only  of  temptation  and  sin,  but  of  sorrow  and 
affliction ;  or,  if  any  of  you  are  too  young  or  too 
thoughtless  now  to  know  it,  you  will  not  need  to 
live  long  to  learn  this  lesson.  There  are  but  few 
countenances  on  which  this  solemn  truth  is  not 
written.  "  Although  affliction  cometh  not  forth  of 
the  dust,  neither  doth  trouble  spring  out  of  the 
ground ;  yet  man  is  born  unto  trouble,  as  the 
sparks  fly  upward."  While  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  chance  in  the  affairs  of  the  world,  in  the  govern- 
ment of  creation,  we  are  born  to  experience  the 
pains  of  sickness,  the  bitterness  of  disappointment, 
the  darkness  and  gloom  of  adversity,  and  the  pangs 
of  death.  It  has  pleased  God  to  make  these  a 
part  of  our  inheritance  under  the  sun,  and  in  vain 
shall  we  strive  to  flee  from  their  approach.  Go 
where  we  will,  live  how  we  may,  the  unwelcome 
messenger  of  suffering,  sorrow,  adversity,  will 
sooner  or  later  find  us,  and  he  will  tell  us,  in  Ian- 


200  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

guage  which  we  can  understand,  that  "  man  was 
made  to  mourn."  Clouds  and  darkness  will  gath- 
er around  us ;  sickness  and  death  will  enter  our 
dwellings,  and  tear  from  our  fond  embrace  the 
lovely  and  the  good ;  our  frames  will  become  bent 
and  broken  by  the  winds  and  storms  of  time,  and 
the  dark,  cold  grave  will  open  its  mouth  to  re- 
ceive us.  Then  we  shall  need  sympathy,  encour- 
agement, and  hope.  Then  shall  we  feel  that  this 
world  is  all  an  empty  show,  a  vain,  fleeting,  fading 
thing,  and  over  the  whole  creation,  which  had 
once  looked  so  bright  and  beautiful  to  us,  will  be 
drawn  the  crape  of  sorrow.  The  ardent  hopes  of 
youth  and  the  gay  scenes  of  prosperity  will  then 
have  faded ;  the  companions  of  our  early  days 
will  be  missing ;  heaviness  and  grief  will  weigh 
down  our  hearts;  and  we  shall  look  about  us, 
and  inquire  if  there  are  any  who  can  feel  for  us, 
and  from  whom  we  can  receive  sympathy,  and 
derive  aid.  And  there  may  then  be  those  around 
us  who  will  have  experienced  the  evils  that  "  flesh 
is  heir  to,"  to  whom  we  can  relate  our  sorrows, 
and  from  whose  sympathizing  hearts  we  can  draw 
strength  and  comfort.  And  how  sweet  and 
soothing  will  be  the  influence  which  we  shall  thus 
derive !  "  Heaviness  in  the  heart  of  man  maketh 
it  stoop,  but  a  good  word  maketh  it  glad."  Who 


r*       **.•$ 

THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  201 

has  not  felt,  in  the  dark  hour  of  suffering  and  af- 
fliction, how  precious  it  is  to  have  the  experience 
and  sympathy  of  a  confiding  friend,  and  how  in- 
spiring and  cheering  it  is  to  breathe  our  wants 
into  his  ear  ?    The  heart  acquires  new  power,  new 
life,  and  we  can  suffer  with  less  complaint,  with 
more  patience.     And,  dear  and  precious  as  is  the 
sympathy  of  the  pilgrims  of  our  way,  there  has 
One  gone  before  us  from  whom  we  can  derive 
more   aid,   more  power,  more   resignation,  than 
from  all  other  beings  in  the  world.      "  We  have 
not  a  High-Priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities."     He  was  a  man  of 
sorrows,  and   acquainted  with  grief.      He  knew 
what  it  was  to  suffer  the  winds  and  storms  of  ad- 
versity, and  to  weep  over  the  grave  of  friends. 
With  pain  and  trial,  he  was  not  only  familiar,  from 
his  own  personal  acquaintance,  but  he  had  a  soul 
to  feel  for  the  grief  and  bereavement  of  all  the 
afflicted  and  suffering  around  him.     And  how  did 
he  bear  his  griefs  and  sorrows  ?     Ah  !  just  as  hu- 
manity should  bear  all  its  woes ;    just  as  man 
should  bear  all  the  sufferings  that  are  laid  upon 
him.     Not  with  a  stoical  indifference,  nor  a  sullen 
gloom,  nor  a   comfortless   despair.      While  his 
heart  was  all  alive  to  the  most  acute  sensations, 
and  his  bosom  heaved  with  the  most  tender  emo- 
18 


202  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

tions,  he  looked  upward  to  his  Father,  and  leaned 
upon  his  Almighty  arm,  perfectly  assured  that  all 
these  trials  and  sufferings  were  ordered  in  mercy, 
and  that  they  would  conduct  him  to  higher  good, 
and  greater  glory.  In  the  darkest  hour  of  his 
sorrow,  how  much  of  human  nature  did  he  breathe 
forth  in  the  petition,  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let 
this  cup  pass  from  me ;"  and  what  a  lesson  for 
human  nature  did  he  give  in  the  very  next  sen- 
tence :  "  Nevertheless,  not  my  will,  but  thine  be 
done  !"  Thus  he  triumphed.  He  looked  above  the 
world  ;  He  cast  all  his  care  upon  Him  who  suffer- 
eth  not  a  sparrow  to  fall  to  the  ground  without 
his  notice,  and  believed  that  his  afflictions  would 
conduce  to  his  ultimate  welfare.  And  thus  we 
may  triumph.  It  was  the  purpose  of  his  suffering 
life  to  reveal  to  man  the  object  of  God  in  sending 
afflictions  upon  him,  to  show  him  that  they  come 
from  the  hand  of  a  Father-,  and  that  they  will  end 
in  the  greater  perfection  and  happiness  of  his 
children,  and  thus  to  breathe  into  man  the  spirit 
of  encouragement  and  hope  in  the  darkest  scenes ; 
and  if,  in  seasons  of  trial  and  suffering,  we  would 
turn  to  him,  mark  how  he  bore  our  griefs,  and 
carried  our  sorrows,  and  imbibe  the  spirit  which 
he  breathed  forth  from  Gethsemane  and  Calvary, 
we  shall  find  a  remedy  for  the  weakness  of  our 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  203 

nature,  and  gain  the  victory  over  the  trials  and 
suffering  of  the  world. 

3.  We  may  gain  aid  from  the  example  of 
Christ  in  our  labors  in  the  cause  of  human  im- 
provement. What  is  the  nature  of  the  work  in 
which  we  are  engaged  ?  Is  it  the  cause  of  impar- 
tial justice  and  universal  benevolence  ?  Would  we 
strip  religion  of  the  exclusiveness  and  bigotry  of 
sectarianism,  and  make  it  the  equal  friend  and 
benefactor  of  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men  ? 
Would  we  see  all  men  regard  each  other  as  the 
children  of  God,  treat  each  other  as  equals  before 
him,  and  look  forward  to  immortality  as  their 
equal  home  ?  Is  this  the  cause  which  we  love, 
and  which  we  would  spread  in  the  world  ?  And 
is  this  cause  hated  and  condemned  by  the  wealthy 
and  popular  sects  around  us  ?  Are  we  looked 
upon  as  the  enemies  of  all  religion,  denied  the 
name  and  character  of  Christians,  excluded  from 
the  communion  of  the  great  mass  of  professing 
religionists,  and  met  with  proscription  and  abuse 
on  every  hand  ?  Do  we  have  to  fight  against 
principalities  and  powers,  against  spiritual  wicked- 
ness in  high  places  ?  And  is  our  warfare  so  se- 
vere that  we  sometimes  yield  to  discouragement, 
and  almost  faint  in  the  conflict  ?  Let  us  turn  our 
eye  toward  our  Master.  In  this  cause  of  univer- 


204  THE     EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

sal  benevolence,  he  was  engaged  with  all  the  ener- 
gies of  his  soul,  and  he  was  hated  and  persecuted 
by  all  the  sectarians  of  his  age.  And  what  pri- 
vations did  he  suffer,  and  what  opposition  and 
malignity  did  he  experience,  in  his  devotion  to  this 
cause  !  Look  over  his  life.  See  him  going  about 
doing  good.  "The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the 
birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but  he  hath  not  where 
to  lay  his  head."  He  is  despised,  scorned,  ridi- 
culed, menaced,  and  frowned  upon,  wherever  he 
goes  ;  and  there  are  none  to  sympathize  with  his 
labors,  but  a  little  company  of  fishermen  from  the 
Galilean  lake.  He  sees  the  whole  world  in  array 
against  him ;  and  though  his  disciples  are  ignorant 
and  timid,  yet  he  faints  not,  and  he  cheerfully 
takes  up  the  cross,  and  dies  upon  it,  that  he  may 
establish  the  Gospel  of  peace  in  the  earth.  0,  let 
us  think  of  his  labors  and  conflicts.  It  is  good  for 
us  to  follow  him  in  his  journeys,  to  watch  with  him 
in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  to  linger  around 
his  cross  oil  the  hill  of  Calvary.  From  these 
scenes  we  may  draw  strength  to  labor  in-  the  cause 
of  God  and  man,  and  be  encouraged  with  the 
hope  of  success  and  victory,  if  we  continue  faith- 
ful to  truth  and  duty. 

Finally,  in  what  scenes,  and  under  what  circum- 
stances, may  not  the  Christian  derive  encourage- 


THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST.  205 

ment  and  strength  from  his  Master,  in  his  passage 
through  this  world  of  danger  and  conflict  ?  While 
he  sees  that  the  journey  on  which  he  has  entered 
is  filled  with  difficulty  and  peril,  he  is  not  deserted  ; 
his  eye  is  fixed  on  a  "  celestial  Leader,  who  has 
himself  fought  and  conquered,  and  holds  forth  to 
him  his  own  crown  of  righteousness  and  victory," — 
a  Leader  who  had  a  kindred  nature  with  himself, 
and  who  was  touched  with  the  feeling  of  his  in- 
firmities. Is  he  poor  ?  So  was  his  Master.  Is 
he  neglected  by  the  world  ?  So  was  his  Master. 
Is  he  hated  by  enemies,  and  betrayed  by  those 
whom  he  had  chosen  for  his  friends  ?  So  was  his 
Master.  Is  he  tempted  to  sacrifice  moral  princi- 
ple to  worldly  policy,  and  to  prefer  the  pleasures 
and  honors  of  this  world  to  the  convictions  of  con- 
science and  the  voice  of  moral  virtue  ?  So  was 
his  Master.  Is  he  visited  with  adversity,  and 
borne  down  by  the  weight  of  grief  and  sorrow  ? 
So  was  his  Master.  And  would  he  triumph  ? 
His  Master  has  shown  him  how.  He  had  an  en- 
counter with  all  these  evils  of  humanity,  and 
"  when  he  ascended  up  on  high,  he  led  captivity 
captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto  men."  In  his  own 
trials  and  conflicts,  then,  let  him  keep  his  eye 
steadily  fixed  upon  this  Conqueror ;  let  him  imi- 
18* 


206  THE    EXAMPLE    OF    CHRIST. 

tate  his  noble  deeds,  and  drink  in  his  lofty  spirit 
of  moral  daring  and  celestial  virtue  ;  and  he  will 
be  able  to  say  with  the  heroic  Paul,  "  /  can  do  all 
things  through  Christ,  which  strengthened  me." 


HUMAN  DESTINY. 

"  And  when  neither  sun  nor  stars  in  many  days  appeared, 
and  no  small  tempest  lay  on  us,  all  hope  that  we  should  be 
saved  was  then  taken  away." — Acts  xxvii.,  20. 

SOON  after  Paul's  defence  of  Christianity  at 
Jerusalem,  he  took  passage  in  a  ship  for  Rome, 
with  a  crew  of  "  two  hundred,  threescore  and 
sixteen  souls."  The  first  part  of  their  voyage  was 
prosperous  and  delightful ;  the  silvery  waters  of 
the  Mediterranean  were  quiet  and  placid ;  the  sun 
lighted  their  course  by  day,  and  the  stars  by  night, 
and  they  were  encouraged  to  hope  that  they 
should  make  their  "  desired  haven"  without  in- 
jury or  loss.  But  soon  a  change  came  over  them. 
"A  tempestuous  wind,  called  Euroclydon,"  began 
to  sigh  through  their  rigging,  and  roughly  to  toss 
them  upon  the  rude  surges  of  the  agitated  sea, 
threatening  them  with  shipwreck  and  the  seaman's 
grave.  "  And  when  neither  sun  nor  stars  in 
many  days  appeared,  and  no  small  tempest  lay  on 
them,  all  hope  that  they  should  be  saved  was 
then  taken  away."  Pale  with  fear,  and  ghostly 
with  terror,  they  looked  upon  each  other's  coun- 


208  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

tenances  with  strange  and  despairing  expressions, 
every  moment  expecting  to  sink  into  the  bosom  of 
the  raging  deep.  But  in  the  midst  of  this  dread- 
ful scene,  there  was  one  whose  bosom  was  calm 
and  serene,  and  who  spoke  words  of  peace  and 
comfort  to  the  affrighted  crew.  It  was  Paul.  In 
the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and  with  his  characteristic 
fortitude  and  benevolence,  he  "  stood  forth  in  the 
midst  of  them,  and  said,  Sirs,  I  exhort  you  to  be 
of  good  cheer ;  for  there  shall  be  no  loss  of  any 
man's  life  among  you,  but  of  the  ship.  For  there 
stood  by  me  this  night  the  angel  of  God,  whose 
I  am,  and  whom  I  serve,  saying,  Fear  not,  Paul ; 
thou  must  be  brought  before  Caesar,  and,  lo,  God 
hath  given  thee  all  them  that  sail  with  thee. 
Wherefore,  sirs,  be  of  good  cheer:  for  I  believe 
God,  that  it  shall  be  even  as  it  was  told  me. 
Howbeit  we  must  be  cast  upon  a  certain  island." 
Onward  they  were  driven  by  the  violence  of  the 
waves,  but  little  believing  the  testimony  of  Paul, 
till  they  came  in  sight  of  land,  when  hope  began 
to  revive ;  and  in  their  eagerness  to  escape,  some 
were  for  throwing  themselves  out  of  the  ship,  and 
attempt  to  gain  the  shore.  Here  Paul  interposed, 
and  said  to  the  captain,  "  Except  these  abide  in  the 
ship,  ye  cannot  be  saved."  And  he  succeeded 
not  only  in  persuading  them  to  abide  in  the  ship, 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  209 

but  he  prevailed  upon  them  to  take  refreshment 
and  receive  comfort.  As  they  had  now  been 
driven  by  the  storm  fourteen  days,  they  had  be- 
come weary  and  exhausted  with  toil  and  fear,  and 
they  had  neglected  to  take  their  usual  food,  and 
refused  to  be  comforted.  See  how  like  a  philoso- 
pher and  a  Christian  the  apostle  labored  with 
them.  "  I  pray  you  to  take  some  meat ;  for  this 
is  for  your  health  ;  for  there  shall  not  a  hajr  fall 
from  the  head  of  any  of  you.  And  when  he  had 
thus  spoken,  he  took  bread,  and  gave  thanks  to 
God  in  presence  of  them  all ;  and  when  he  had 
broken  it,  he  began  to  eat.  Then  were  they  all 
of  good  cheer,  and  they  also  took  some  meat. 
And  falling  into  a  place  where  two  seas  met,  they 
ran  the  ship  aground  ;"  and  though  she  was  broken 
and  ruined  by  the  violence  of  the  waves,  "  it  came 
to  pass  that  they  escaped  all  safe  to  land." 

I  have  thought  this  piece  of  history  a  fit  intro- 
duction to  a  discourse  on  Human  Destiny.  I 
think  I  see  in  it  a  picture  which  may  be  very  ap- 
propriately used  to  illustrate  the  present  condition 
and  the  probable  final  destiny  of  the  human  race. 
The  final  destiny  of  the  human  race !  Whose  soul 
is  not  stirred  with  a  deep  and  solemn  interest  at 
the  thought  ?  Who  does  not  feel  the  moment- 
ousness  of  the  inquiry, — Where  and  in  what  will 


210  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

terminate  our  being  ?  To  what  coast  are  we 
bound,  and  what  will  be  our  everlasting  haven  ? 
When  we  "shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil,"  shall  we 
sink  into  the  waters  of  nonentity  ?  or  shall  we  be 
landed  on  some  foreign  shore  ?  and  what  will  be 
our  condition  there, — shall  we  be  bound  in  the 
chains  of  slavery,  or  shall  we  enter  the  domains 
of  intellectual  and  moral  freedom?  There  are 
those  who  seem  to  be  indifferent  to  this  subject, 
and  who  would  persuade  us  that  it  does  not  be- 
come man,  that  it  is  none  of  his  business,  to  exer- 
cise his  mind  upon  it,  or  to  bestow  upon  it  his 
attention  and  interest.  There  may  be  such  indi- 
viduals,— and  if  there  are,  we  freely  grant  them 
the  right  to  their  opinion,  but  I  must  say  that  I 
cannot  be  of  their  number.  I  have  an  infinite  in- 
terest at  stake  in  the  matter.  I  am  ready  to  con- 
fess that  my  main  business  is  with  the  present 
world,  that  I  have  duties  here  to  perform  which 
call  for  the  action  of  my  best  powers,  and  for  my 
constant  attention,  but  I  cannot  confine  my 
thoughts  and  aspirations  to  the  present.  There 
is  something  within  me  which  looks  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  passing  hour,  and  loudly  inquires, 
What  will  be  the  issue  of  my  being  ?  The  inqui- 
ry I  cannot  repress.  This  bright  and  glorious 
universe  is  nothing  to  me,  in  comparison  with  its 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  211 

importance.  I  must  think  upon  it,  and  if  I  can- 
not find  an  answer  to  it  which  will  meet  and  satis- 
fy the  wants  of  my  heart,  I  must  weep  and  la- 
ment that  I  was  ever  ushered  into  existence.  And 
the  importance  which  I  must  and  do  attach  to 
this  inquiry,  does  not  arise  solely  from  my  interest 
in  my  own  being.  I  have  associated  with  those 
who  were  as  dear  to  me  as  myself,  and  some  of 
them — the  brightest  and  the  best,  are  gone !  The 
sweetest  and  loveliest  flowers  that  bloomed  in  the 
garden  of  my  youth,  alas  !  where  are  they  ?  The 
tender  and  self-sacrificing  companion  of  my  youth- 
ful days,  and  the  bright  and  promising  child,  the 
only  being  that  ever  wore  my  own  image,  have 
been  torn  from  my  embraces,  leaving  me  to  buffet 
the  storms  of  life  alone,  and  making  me  feel,  at 
times,  as  if  I  were  living  in  a  world  which  is  little 
else  than  a  huge  sepulchre,  outwardly  beautiful 
indeed,  but  literally  filled  with  bones  and  putrefac- 
tion, and  often  leading  me  to  say  to  "  corruption, 
Thou  art  my  mother,  and  to  the  worm,  Thou  art 
my  brother  and  my  sister ;"  yet  from  this  dreary 
prison  of  sorrow,  I  have  looked  upward,  and  ask- 
ed, with  an  ardor  and  a  solemnity  which  I  never 
knew  before,  for  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the 
light,"  in  regard  to  the  purpose  of  God  in  the 
creation  of  man,  especially  as  it  respects  his  final 


212  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

condition.  And  during  the  past  week,  my  heart 
has  been  touched  again,  and  additional  interest 
given  to  this  subject,  by  hearing  of  the  sudden 
and  most  distressing  death  of  a  kind  and  affec- 
tionate sister,  who  grew  up  with  me  as  a  tender 
plant  under  the  parental  roof,  but  whose  offices  of 
sympathy  and  kindness  I  can  share  no  longer  in 
the  land  of  the  living.  And  I  am  beginning  to 
think  that  the  longer  I  live  in  this  world,  the 
deeper  will  be  the  wounds  which  will  be  made 
upon  my  once  young  and  joyous  heart ;  or,  at 
least,  that  the  more  years  I  see,  the  more  of  trial 
and  suffering  I  shall  be  called  to  experience — the 
more  of  my  friends  will  be  torn  from  me ;  and,  of 
consequence,  the  dearer  and  more  precious  to  me 
will  be  the  subject  of  human  destiny.  And  I 
know  that  I  am  not  alone  in  this  matter.  I  look 
around  me,  and  I  see  a  world  "  groaning  and  trav- 
ailing in  pain."  "A  few  seem  favorites  of  fate," 
a  few  appear  to  live  in  sunshine  and  unmixed 
prosperity  ;  but  misfortune,  affliction,  suffering,  is 
the  common  lot  of  mortals.  Disease  and  death 
are  all  abroad  in  the  world,  cutting  down  the 
aged  and  the  young,  the  parent  and  the  child  ; 
and  though  some  may  stand  longer  than  others, 
all  will  finally  have  to  confess  that  there  is  no  dis- 
charge in  the  war  of  death  ;  and  there  must  be  a 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  213 

wide  and  deep  desire  to  know  whether  the  ene- 
my with  which  they  have  to  contend  can  be  over- 
come. I  know,  therefore,  that  I  am  not  speaking 
on  an  indifferent  or  useless  topic  when  I  speak  on 
the  condition  and  destiny  of  man. 

The  ship  of  Humanity  has  heen  launched,  and 
we  are  out  upon  the  broad  ocean  of  existence- 
The  first  part  of  our  voyage  has  been  delightful 
and  full  of  promise.  The  season  of  youth  is  rife 
with  innocent  pleasure,  and  warm  with  ardent  and 
promising  hopes.  The  mind  has  not  yet  been 
made  to  feel  the  bitterness  of  disappointment,  and 
the  cold  pressure  of  affliction  upon  the  heart  has 
not  yet  checked  its  joyous  aspirations,  and  caused 
it  to  realize  that  this  is  a  world  of  danger  and  trial. 
The  waters  over  which  we  are  passing  are  smooth 
and  beautiful ;  the  winds  and  storms  of  adversity 
have  not  yet  swept  over  them,  and  lashed  them 
into  fury  ;  the  heavens  are  all  clear  and  bright ; 
and  we  fondly  imagine  that  we  have  set  sail  upon 
a  sea  which  is  unvisited  with  tempests,  and  on 
which  we  are  in  danger  of  no  injury,  no  evil.  But 
we  go  not  far  before  we  learn  our  mistake.  The 
heavens  gather  clouds  and  darkness;  winds  and 
storms  arise,  and  sweep  over  the  face  of  the  great 
deep  with  dreadful  violence,  making  the  ocean 
foam  and  "  boil  like  a  caldron,"  and  tossing  our 
19 


214  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

bark  "  to  and  fro  like  a  drunken  man,"  and  at 
times  we  give  up  our  minds  to  the  influence  of 
despair,  and  wonder  why  it  is  that  our  Creator 
has  put  us  out  upon  a  sea  which  is  agitated  with 
so  many  currents  and  swept  with  so  many  storms. 
When  fortune  frowns  upon  us,  and  the  raven 
wing  of  affliction  is  spread  out  over  our  prospects, 
when  the  pale  messenger  of  death  comes  up  from 
the  ghostly  shades  of  corruption,  and  takes  from 
our  bosoms  our  friends,  and  conveys  them  away 
to  his  misty  and  dreary  regions,  the  sun  of  our 
mental  horizon  becomes  shrouded  in  darkness,  the 
stars  hide  their  beautiful  faces  from  our  view,  and 
"  all  hope  is  taken  away." 

Complete,  settled  despair,  however,  is  not  com- 
mon. We  are  creatures  of  hope,  and  this  princi- 
ple of  our  nature  rarely  if  ever  fails  us,  however 
dark  the  heavens,  or  gloomy  and  fearful  the  storm. 
The  world  within  is  not  so  changeful  as  the  world 
without.  The  soul,  like  the  compass  of  the 
mariner,  is  its  own  place,  and  the  magnetic  needle 
is  not  more  faithful  in  its  attractions  toward  the 
Pole,  than  is  the  mind  of  man  in  its  aspirations  after 
immortality  and  infinite  good.  He  cannot  rest  his 
mind  on  the  scenes  of  the  present.  He  is  not 
content  to  stop  at  the  grave.  His  wants,  his 
thoughts,  his  affections  overleap  this  dark  barrier, 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  215 

and  "expatiate  on  a  life  to  come."  Even  if  his 
head  is  so  cool  and  doubting  that  he  cannot  look 
with  the  eye  of  faith  beyond  it,  his  heart  is  un- 
willing to  stop  at  the  narrow  house,  and  sink  into 
its  cold  precincts  to  dwell  forever.  The  depths 
of  his  inward  being,  and  all  the  affections  of  his 
moral  nature,  cry  aloud  for  an  immortal  field  for 
their  exercise,  and  an  eternal  inheritance  for  their 
portion.  This  desire  is  so  natural  and  strong  in 
the  human  heart,  that  in  the  majority  of  our  race, 
whether  enlightened  or  ignorant,  in  Heathen  and  in 
Christain  lands,  it  has  begotten  a  hope  of  another 
and  higher  existence.  Even  the  untutored  savage 
has  not  been  without  it,  and  as  man  has  ascended 
in  the  scale  of  civilization  and  refinement,  it  has 
been  more  and  more  attractive  to  his  mental  eye, 
and  dearer  and  dearer  to  the  affections  of  his 
heart. 

"  Lo,  the  poor  Indian,  whose  untutored  mind 
Sees  God  in  clouds,  and  hears  him  in  the  wind  ; 
His  soul  proud  science  never  taught  to  stray 
Far  as  the  solar  walk  or  milky  way  ;   • 
Yet  simple  Nature  to  his  hope  has  given 
Behind  the  cloud-topt  sky,  an  humbler  heaven. 
Some  safer  world  in  depth  of  woods  embrac'd, 
Some  happier  realm  beyond  the  wat'ry  waste, 
Where  friends  once  more  their  native  land  behold, 
No  fiends  torment,  no  Christians  thirst  for  gold." 

And  when  man  cannot  exercise  this  hope,  and 


216  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

he  cannot  believe  that  he  shall  finally  enter  the 
haven  of  immortality,  how  dark  are  his  prospects, 
how  disconsolate  his  condition !  The  discontent- 
ment and  misery  which  he  feels  loudly  testify  that 
his  faith  is  not  in  agreement  with  his  nature,  and 
that  he  was  made  for  a  higher  destiny  than  he 
anticipates.  If  in  this  life  only  he  has  hope,  he  is 
of  all  creatures  most  miserable.  The  brute  has 
not  his  capacious  thoughts,  and  his  ardent  de- 
sires after  immortal  good,  and  therefore  it  can 
know  nothing  of  the  bitterness  which  is  diffused 
through  all  the  fountains  of  his  enjoyment  by  the 
reflection  that  he  is  doomed  to  be  swallowed  in 
the  ocean  of  eternal  forgetfulness.  And  when  the 
winds  and  storms  of  adversity  gather  around  him, 
and  his  frail  bark  is  tossed  upon  the  heaving  bil- 
lows, he  has  no  comforter ;  his  spirit,  like  the  dove 
of  Noah,  goes  out  upon  its  trembling  pinion  to 
survey  the  vast  and  troubled  deep,  and  seek  for 
some  island  where  it  can  find  repose  and  rest,  but, 
alas,  she  returns  with  weary  wing  and  downcast 
look,  and  bearing  no  olive-branch  from  the  land  it 
had  sought.  And  when  neither  the  sun  of  truth 
nor  the  stars  of  promise  appear,  and  no  small  tem- 
pest of  sorrow  lays  upon  him,  all  hope  is  taken 
away,  and  he  yields  himself  up  to  despair. 

But,  my  friends,  to  save  us  from  this  dark  and 


HUMAN     DESTINY.  217 

sorrowing  state  of  mind,  God  hatlr  stooped  to  our 
wants,  and  given  us  a  Revelation.  In  the  teach- 
ings of  prophets,  and  especially  in  the  mission  of 
His  own  Son,  we  shall  find  that  the  Creator  has 
spoken  to  the  mariners  on  the  sea  of  time,  and  in 
tones  of  tenderness  and  love  exhorted  them  to  "  be 
of  good  cheer,"  to  trust  in  him  amidst  the  tem- 
pests which  lay  heavily  upon  them,  and  to  believe 
that  he  "  rideth  upon  the  storm,"  and  will  finally 
bring  them  to  their  "  desired  haven."  To  these 
ignorant  and  weary  mariners,  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  brings  a  chart  of  the  great  ocean  of  being, 
and  a  compass  by  which  to  regulate  their  voyage. 
It  is  a  chart  of  the  divine  government,  and  the 
compass  of  eternal  truth.  It  is  true,  that  there 
are  some  who  have  but  little  confidence  in  their 
correctness,  and  even  think  that  we  should  know 
just  as  much  of  God  and  futurity,  if  we  should 
throw  them  into  the  sea ;  but  it  is  an  undeniable 
fact  that  those  who  have  studied  them  with  the 
most  care,  and  especially  those  who  have  tried 
them,  and  used  them  most  constantly  and  thorough- 
ly, have  had  the  greatest  confidence  in  their  cor- 
rectness, and  they  have  found  themselves  cheerful 
and  happy,  at  peace  with  themselves  and  with 
God,  just  in  proportion  as  they  have  yielded  to 
19* 


218  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

their  instructions,  and  regulated  their  course  by 
their  directions. 

I  have  called  the  Gospel  a  chart  of  the  great 
ocean  of  being,  and  I  think  there  is  no  extrava- 
gance in  the  comparison.  It  gives  a  revelation  of 
the  character  of  God  and  the  nature  of  his  govern- 
ment. It  tells  us  that  He  who  made  us  is  not 
merely  our  Creator,  but  our  Father  ;  that  he  hath 
created  us  in  his  own  image,  and  for  the  reflection 
of  his  glory  ;  that  he  regards  us  and  treats  us  as 
his  own  children,  and  that  though  he  lead  us 
through  many  dark  and  trying  scenes,  he  will  nev- 
er leave  nor  forsake  us  ;  he  will  lead  us  forth  by 
a  way  which  they  know  not,  and  conduct  us  to  the 
green  pasture  of  his  favor.  How  big  with  sub- 
limity, and  how  replete  with  wisdom  and  comfort 
are  the  views  which  are  given  of  the  character  of 
Him  who  sits  at  the  helm*of  the  universe  !  Listen. 
"  He  hath  created  all  things,  and  for  his  pleasure 
they  are  and  were  created."  "  He  loveth  all  the 
things  that  are,  and  hateth  nothing  which  he  has 
made,  for  he  never  would  have  created  anything  to 
have  hated  it."  "  He  is  good  unto  all,  and  his  ten- 
der merciete  are  over  all  his  works."  "  Clouds  and 
darkness  are  round  about  him,  but  justice  and 
judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne."  "  He 
will  not  cast  off  forever ;  but  though  he  cause 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  219 

grief,  yet  will  he  have  compassion  according  to  the 
multitude  of  his  mercies.  For  he  doth  not  afflict 
willingly,  nor  grieve  the  children  of  men."  "  He 
will  not  always  chide,  for  the  spirits  would  fail  be- 
fore him,  and  the  souls  he  has  made."  "  Con- 
sider the  birds  of  the  air ;  your  heavenly  Father 
feedeth  them :  will  he  not  much  more  take 
care  of  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ?"  "  He  seeth  in 
secret."  "  Not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground 
without  his  notice,  and  the  very  hairs  of  your  head 
are  all  numbered  before  him  :  Fear  ye  not,  there- 
fore ;  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows." 
Whoever  looks  up  to  God  through  these  views, 
will  have  a  light  within  him  which  will  be  to  his 
soul  what  the  sun  is  to  the  eye  ;  and  though 
clouds  and  storms  come  over  him,  his  inward  eye 
will  see  that,  while  "  God  maketh  darkness  his 
pavilion,"  he  ruleth  in  goodn(M6,  and  will  make 
present  affliction  work  for  him  future  and  greater 
good. 

I  have  called  the  Gospel  also  a  compass,  and 
have  I  not  very  appropriately  ?  To  the  mariners 
on  the  sea  of  time  it  is  a  guide,  and  amidst  storm 
and  sunshine  it  points  them  to  the  haven  of  im- 
mortality and  eternal  delight.  How  plain  is  the 
language,  and  how  rich  and  consoling  its  mighty 
import !  "  The  creature  was  made  subject  to  van- 


220  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

ity,  not  willingly,  but  by  reason  of  Him  who  hath 
subjected  the  same  in  hope,  because  the  creature 
itself  shall  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  cor- 
ruption, into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of 
God."  "  The  children  of  this  world  marry  and 
are  given  in  marriage,  but  they  which  shall  be 
accounted  worthy  to  obtain  that  world,  and  the  res- 
urrection from  the  dead,  neither  marry,  nor  are 
given  in  marriage ;  neither  can  they  die  any  more ; 
for  they  are  equal  unto  the  angels,  and  are  the 
children  of  God,  being  the  children  of  the  resur- 
rection." "  The  last  enemy,  death,  shall  be  de- 
stroyed." "  As  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ 
shall  all  be  made  alive."  "  As  we  have  borne  the 
image  of  the  earthy,  we  shall  also  bear  the  image 
of  the  heavenly."  "  So  when  this  corruptible 
shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal 
shall  have  put  *m.  immortality,  then  shall  be 
brought  to  pass  the  saying  that  is  written,  Death 
is  swallowed  up  in  victory.  0  death,  where  is 
thy  sting  ?  0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?  The 
sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the 
law.  But  thanks  be  to  God,  which  giveth  us  the 
victory,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  "  And 
I  heard  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven,  and  on 
the  earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such  as  are  in 
the  sea, 'and  all  that  are  in  them,  saying,  Blessing, 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  221 

and  honor,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that 
sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for 
ever  and  ever." 

What  a  heavenly  and  joyful  faith  !  To  all 
on  board  the  ship  Humanity  it  says,  "  Be  of 
good  cheer,"  your  Father's  at  the  helm,  and 
no  harm  shall  befall  you.  You  shall  outride 
the  storm  that  hangs  over  your  heads ;  and 
though  you  are  cast  upon  the  island  of  death, 
and  your  present  barque  is  made  a  wreck, 
and  goes  to  ruin,  yet  ye  shall  all  escape  safe  to 
the  land  of  your  desire.  "For  if  your  earthly 
house  of  this  tabernacle  be  dissolved,  ye  have  a 
building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens."  O,  how  precious  the  as- 
surance to  the  tempest- tost  mariner  on  the  ocean 
of  life  !  It  gives  an  anchor  to  his  soul,  which  is 
sure  and  steadfast  in  the  darkest^ stormiest  hour; 
when  he  is  weary  and  worn  down  with  toil  and 
conflict,  it  persuades  him  to  take  nourishment  and 
comfort,  to  "  be  of  goo'd  cheer,"  like  the  crew 
which  Paul  instructed  ;  and  he  is  enabled  to  say, 
even  when  the  storm  rages  around  him,  "  0  my 
soul !  why  art  thou  cast  down,  and  why  art  thou 
disquieted  within  me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God.  Yea, 
though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 


222  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  God  is  with  me  ; 
his  rod  and  his  staff  they  comfort  me." 

But,  cruel  as  it  would  seem,  there  are  those 
in  the  world  who  would  take  from  us  this  glorious 
hope,  and  leave  us  to  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and 
waves,  without  chart,  without  compass,  and  with- 
out anchor.  There  are  two  systems  which  are  en- 
gaged in  this  unnatural  and  unmerciful  work. 
One  is  the  doctrine  of  Atheism ;  the  other  the  doc- 
trine of  Endless  Misery.  The  ship  Atheism  sails 
from  the  port  of  Chance,  and  is  bound  for  the 
maelstrom  of  annihilation.  The  barque  Endless 
Misery  sails  from  the  harbor  of  Total  Depravity, 
and  is  bound  for  the  coast  of  eternal  slavery,  where 
the  passengers  are  to  be  confined  in  chains  as 
much  more  galling  than  any  worn  on  earth,  as  the 
infinite  is  greater  than  the  finite  ! 

The  Atheist  tells  us  that  man,  with  all  his  won- 
derful powers,  came  into  being  without  design  I 
that  he  lives  without  a  purpose,  and  that  death 
closes  his  promising  career,  and  plunges  him  into 
the  black  gulf  of  eternal  forgetfulness !  And 
the  advocates  of  this  theory  call  themselves  phi- 
losophers, and  the  friends  of  science,  and  of  our 
race !  Ah ! 

"  la  this  your  triumph— this  your  proud  applause, 
Children  of  Truth,  and  championi  of  her  cause  1 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  223 

For  this  hath  science  searched,  on  weary  wing, 

By  shore  and  sea,  each  mute  and  living  thing  1 

Launched  with  Iluria's  pilot  from  the  steep, 

To  worlds  unknown,  and  isles  beyond  the  deep  1 

Or  round  the  cape  her  living  chariot  driven, 

And  wheeled  in  triumph  through  the  sighs  of  Heaven  1 

Oh  !  star-eyed  science,  hast  thou  wander'd  there, 

To  waft  us  home  the  message  of  despair  1 

Then  bind  the  palm,  thy  sage's  brow  to  suit, 

Of  blasted  leaf,  and  death-distilling  fruit ! 

But  if  the  warring  winds  of  Nature's  strife 

Be  all  the  faithless  charter  of  my  life, — 

If  Chance  awak'd,  inexorable  power  ! 

This  frail  and  feverish  being  of  an  hour, 

Doom'd  o'er  the  world's  precarious  scene  to  sweep, 

Swift  as  the  tempest  travels  on  the  deep, 

To  know  Delight  but  by  her  parting  smile, 

And  toil,  and  wish,  and  weep,  a  little  while  ; 

Then  melt,  ye  elements,  that  formed  in  vain 

This  troubled  pulse  and  visionary  brain  ! 

Fade,  ye  wild  flowers,  memorials  of  my  doom  ! 

And  sink,  ye  stars,  that  light  me  to  the  tomb  !" 


Surely,  in  the  belief  of  this  dark  creed,  man  is 
wrapped  in  impenetrable  clouds  of  darkness  and 
gloom  ;  the  sun  of  truth  and  the  stars  of  immor- 
tality cease  to  glimmer  on  the  mind,  and  "  all  hope 
is  taken  away." 

Confident  as  the  advocate  of  this  theory  may 
be  of  its  truth,  there  are  two  or  three  things 
which  should  cool  the  ardor  of  his  zeal,  and  at  the 
same  time  strengthen  the  faith  of  the  Christian. 


224  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

1.  He   cannot  prove  that  there    is    no  future 
and  higher  existence  for  man.     He  can  assert  it. 
but  assertion  is  not  proof.     He  can  argue  against 
it,  but  argument  is  not  demonstration.     He  can  rid- 
icule us  for  trusting  in  Revelation  as  our  main 
ground  of  hope  of  a  future  life  ;  but  he  stands  in 
just  as  much  need  of  a  revelation  to  prove  that 
there  is  no  future  existence,  as  the  Christian  does 
to  prove  that  there  is.     He  does  not  see  every- 
thing that  is  in  the  universe.     For  aught  he  can 
tell  to  the  contrary,  man  has  within  an  immortal 
principle,  and  it  may  outlive  the  existence  of  the 
whole  outward  creation.     The  fact  is  an  important 
one,  that  some  cause  has  given  us  existence ;  and 
whatever  that  cause  be, — if  it  be  crude,  unconscious 
matter,  or  even  chance, — it  cannot  be  proved  that  it 
may  not  raise  us  from  the  dead,  or  by  some  other 
process   continue  our   being  ;  for   certainly,  it   is 
quite  as  conceivable  that  it  should  continue  our 
existence,  as  that  it  should  have  created  us. 

2.  In    denying   to  man  the  hope  of  a  future 
state,  he  denies  the  harmony  of  nature.     He  is 
sometimes  heard  to  discourse  largely  on  the  beauty 
and  harmony  of  nature ;  but  we  cannot  see  how 
he  can  deny  to  man  the  hope  of  a  future  life,  with- 
out making  nature  inconsistent  with  herself,  yea 
without  affirming  that  there  is  discord  and  contra- 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  225 

diction  in  the  noblest  being  which  he  recognizes  in 
creation.  Why  ?  Because  there  is  no  meaning 
in  the  powers  and  wants  of  man,  if  he  is  not 
destined  for  immortality.  In  other  words,  if  he 
were  not  made  for  immortality,  then  his  nature  is  a 
contradiction  to  the  harmony  of  creation  :  yea,  his 
nature  is  at  war  with  his  destiny.  "The  powers  of 
the  inferior  animals  are  perfectly  suited  to  their 
condition  and  their  end.  They  know  nothing,  and 
seek  nothing,  higher  than  their  present  state.  In 
gratifying  their  appetites,  they  fulfill  their  destiny, 
and  pass  quietly  away.  Man  alone,  according  to 
this  theory,  comes  forth  to  act  a  part  which  car- 
ries no  meaning,  and  tends  to  no  consistent  end. 
Endowed  with  capacities  which  extend  beyond  his 
present  sphere,  fitted  bjr  his  rational  nature  for 
running  the  race  of  immortality,  and  having  aspi- 
rations for  the  attainment  of  that  high  goal,  he  is 
stopped  short  at  the  very  entrance  of  his  course. 
He  squanders  his  activity  on  pursuits  which  he 
sees  to  be  vain.  He  languishes  for  knowledge 
which  is  placed  beyond  his  reach.  He  thirsts  for 
a  happiness  which  he  is  never  to  enjoy.  He  sees 
and  laments  the  disasters  of  his  state,  but  upon 
the  supposition  that  there  is  no  future  life,  he  can 
find  for  them  no  remedy.''  Verily,  nature  is  here 
turned  into  an  enemy  to  herself  by  this  theory, 
30 


226  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

and  its  advocate  is  obliged  to  confess  that  man,  in 
his  view  of  his  destiny,  is  so  far  from  being  the  no- 
blest of  God's  works,  that  he  is  the  greatest  of  his 
failures !  And, 

3.  He  can  give  us  nothing  better,  nothing 
more  consistent  or  consoling,  than  the  Gospel. 
"  He  looks  around  him,  and  he  sees  the  unfortunate 
cheered  by  its  hopes,  the  aged  and  in6rm  on  the 
verge  of  the  grave  supported  by  its  spirit,  and  the 
dying  pillow  rendered  soft  and  joyful  by  its  power. 
I  would  beseech  him,  in  the  name  of  mercy,  to 
take  not  this  staff  from  the  hand  of  the  tottering 
veteran,  till  he  can  give  him  a  better.  Destroy 
not  this  last  refuge  of  the  unfortunate,  till  you  can 
offer  a  safer  retreat.  fDash  not  this  last^cup  of 
consolation  from  the  quivering  lips  of  the  dying, 
unless  you  can  administer  a  cordial  more  inspiring. 
If  you  can  give  us  anything  that  will  make  us  more 
happy  in  life,  or  more  resigned  in  death,  we  will 
talk  of  an  exchange.  But  until  you  are  prepared 
to  do  this,  I  entreat  you  to  spare  our  hopes,  and 
let  us  drink  freely  and  copiously  of  the  river  of 
life." 

But  our  attention  is  drawn  toward  another 
sail.  Ah  !  she  is  no  stranger.  Endless  Misery — 
ENDLESS  MISERY,  is  streaming  upon  her  flag ! 
Clearing  the  maelstrom  of  annihilation,  she  is  mak- 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  227 

ing  her  way  to  a  foreign  coast.  There  the  crew 
is  to  be  landed,  and  then  separated  ;  a  few  will  be 
conducted  into  the  fields  of  partial  freedom, — the 
rest  are  to  be  led  away  into  the  regions  of  eternal 
bondage,  where  the  most  galling  chains  are  to  be 
riveted  upon  them,  and  they  be  made  to  work  for- 
ever in  the  prison  of  infinite  despair  under  the  di- 
rection and  the  blows  of  the  Prince  of  everlasting 
rebellion !  And  this  is  called  the  Gospel  of  Christ ! 
And  this  is  brought  to  us  in  the  dark  night  of  ad- 
versity, and  presented  to  our  lips  as  the  Balm  of 
Gilead,  the  cure  of  our  woes  !  Ah !  it  is  more 
bitter  than  wormwood  !  We  cannot  drink  it.  It 
would  disturb  the  functions  of  our  inward  life,  and 
pollute  all  the  fountains  of  our  enjoyment.  It 
would  wring  tears  from  the  benevolent  soul,  and 
plant  thorns  in  the  dying  pillow.  It  would  blast 
the  glory  of  God,  veil  the  luminary  of  heaven's 
goodness  in  rayless  darkness,  blot  out  the  bright 
stars  of.  redemption,  and  quench  the  beams  of  hope. 
To  the  evils  and  sufferings  of  this  world,  it  would 
add  the  prospect  of  infinite  woes  and  endless  ago- 
nies, and  the  soul  of  man  might  well  murmur  at 
his  fate,  and  even  curse  the  day  of  his  birth.  If 
he  thought  and  felt  on  the  subject,  he  would — he 
must  say,  "Oh  !  this  is  quite  too  much  for  poor 
human  nature  ;  yea,  let  me  rather  quietly  sink  into 


228  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

the  dreary  vortex  of  non-existence,  than  to  be 
wafted  to  the  shores  ot  immortality,  to  behold  a 
part  of  my  race,  and  perhaps  the  dearest  of  my 
friends,  torn  from  God  and  heaven,  and  dragged 
down  to  the  flames  of  a  quenchless  hell,  where 
they  will  be  '  forever  burning,  yet  unconsumed  ; 
forever  wasting,  yet  enduring  still ;  forever  dying, 
yet  never  dead.'  ' 

„  But  it  is  said  that  man  must  submit,  if  it  does 
seem  hard.  "  The  conditions  of  the  Gospel  were 
given  them,"  it  is  said,  "and  they  might  have 
obeyed;  but  they  refused  to  comply  with  them, 
and  the  fault,  therefore,  is  all  their  own."  So  it 
is  very  generally  argued,  and  many  there  be  who 
think  that  it  makes  the  crooked  all  straight.  We 
grant  that  there  are  conditions  in  the  Gospel,  and 
if  we  did  not  believe  that  they  would  ultimately 
be  complied  with,  we  should  despair  of  the  final 
salvation  of  our  race.  But  we  believe  that  God 
knew  what  he  was  about  when  he  established 
these  conditions,  and  made  such  arrangements  for 
their  being  regarded  and  obeyed,  that  they  will 
harmonize  with  his  own  good  purpose,  and  result 
in  the  fulfillment  of  his  will — the  ultimate  salvation 
of  man.  We  have  an  appropriate  illustration  in 
the  case  of  Paul  and  the  ship.  He  told  the  af- 
frighted crew  that  though  they  should  be  cast 


HUMAN    DESTINY.  229 

upon  a  certain  island,  they  should  all  ultimately 
be  saved.  "There  shall  be  no  loss  of  any  man ;" 
and  so  the  end  proved.  But,  while  on  their  voy- 
age, as  they  came  in  sight  of  land,  some  resolved 
to  "  flee  out  of  the  ship."  Here  Paul  interceded, 
and  said,  "  Except  these  abide  in  the  ship,  ye  can- 
not be  saved."  This  was  equally  true,  but  it  had 
no  effect  to  annul  the  first  declaration,  because 
they  yielded  to  the  condition,  and  were  saved. 
So,  we  conceive,  it  is  and  will  be  with  mankind. 
The  Gospel  comes  to  them  while  they  are  on  the 
rough  ocean  of  life,  and  says,  "  Be  of  good  cheer, 
for  there  shall  be  no  loss  of  any  man,  but  of  the 
ship  ;"  "The  living  God  is  the  Saviour  of  all 
men ;"  "He  will  not  cast  off  forever,'7  for  " he 
will  have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth."  This  is  divine  truth.  But 
while  on  their  passage  to  the  haven  of  eternal  sal- 
vation, as  they  pass  islands  which  seem  to  promise 
them  pleasure  and  profit,  they  are  tempted  to 
throw  themselves  into  the  waters  of  sin,  and  risk 
their  fate  to  their  individual  exertions.  Here  the 
voice  from  above  speaks  again,  "Except  these 
abide  in  the  Gospel,  ye  cannot  be  saved."  This 
also  is  divine  truth,  and  so  they  find  it.  For  if 
they  plunge  out  into  the  troubled  ocean  of  trans- 
gression, they  find  in  it  no  rest  day  nor  night ;  it 
20* 


230  HUMAN    DESTINY. 

is  an  element  for  which  they  were  not  made,  and 
in  which  they  cannot  be  happy,  and  they  will  all 
therefore  be  glad  to  hearken  to  their  commander, 
and  obey;  and  "the  Captain  of  our  salvation"  is 
of  such  a  character,  that  he  will  not  cast  them 
from  him,  and  commit  them  to  the  devouring  ele- 
ments, because  they  have  been  so  foolish  as  to  try 
them,  but  he  will  stretch  forth  his  soft  but  mighty 
hand,  and  receive  them  to  himself;  so  that  all  will 
finally  "  escape  safe  to  land."  And  so  it  is  writ- 
ten, "  Every  knee  shall  bow  and  every  tongue 
shall  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the 
glory  of  God  the  Father."  "Then  coraeth  the 
end,  when  he  shall  have  delivered  up  the  kingdom 
to  God,  even  the  Father,  when  he  hath  put  down 
all  rule,  and  all  authority,  and  power  ;  for  he  must 
reign,  till  he  hath  put  all  enemies  under  his  feet." 
"  And  the  Lord  God  shallij^llow  up  death  in 
victory,  and  wipe  away  tears  from  all  faces." 

Such,  my  friends,  is  the  hope  of  the  Gospel. 
Do  you  not  feel  the  need  of  its  tidings  and  conso- 
lations, to  cheer  and  sustain  you  in  the  journey  of 
human  life  ?  Do  you  not  want  its  chart,  compass, 
and  anchor,  in  your  passage  across  the  storm- 
swept  ocean  of  existence  ?  Alas,  there  are  some 
who  seem  indifferent  in  regard  to  this  matter,  and 
the*6  are  those  who  even  say  that  "  if  this  doc- 


HUMAN    DESTINY. 


231 


trine  is  true,  there  is  no  use  in  preaching  it !" 
What !  no  use  in  knowing  the  truth  ?  Why  did 
Paul  tell  the  truth  to  the  despairing  crew  ?  Ah  ! 
it  made  them  free !  It  made  them  of  "  good 
cheer,"  and  availed  to  give  them  nourishment  and 
comfort.  And  is  there  no  use  in  knowing  the 
truth  in  relation  to  our  final  destiny? — no  use  in 
being  made  cheerful  and  joyful  by  its  divine  as- 
surances ?  I  know  the  answer.  While  driven 
and  tossed  by  the  winds  and  tempests  of  adversity? 
I  have  lent  an  ear  to  its  "  still  small  voice,"  as  it 
has  whispe'red  to  my  pained  and  burdened  heart, 
and  I  know  it  has  power  to  still,  at  least,  the  tem- 
pest within,  and  to  give  quietness,  nourishment, 
and  "  good  cheer"  to  the  soul ;  and  I  say  with  the 
poet, 

s  which  men  devise 
h  with  treacherous  art, 
ities  and  lies, 
e  Gospel  to  my  heart." 


• 


THE  JOY  OF  THE  GOSPEL. 

* 

"  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  my  joy  might 
remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joymight  be  full." — John,  xv.  11. 

WHEN  I  turn  to  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  lend  an  ear  to  its  tones,  I  feel  sure  that  I  am 
listening  to  such  music  as  never  had  its  origin  in 
this  jarring,  discordant  world.  The  strains  which 
I  hear  are  so  sweet  and  harmonious,  so  well 
adapted  to  the  moral  ear,  and  so  soothing  and 
tranquillizing  in  their  influence,  that  I  can  ascribe 
their  origin  to  nothing  but  that  Hand  which  spread 
out  the  heavens,  moulded  our  nature  in  the  image 
of  the  Infinite,  and  gave  oui^tt^  their  capacities 
and  wants.  H 

It  is  to  me  one  of  the  stro^Brevidences  of  the 
divinity  of  the  religion  of  the  Son  of  God,  that  it 
does  not  aim  to  augment  the  fears,  and  multiply 
the  sorrows,  of  mankind  ;  but  that,  on  the  con- 
trary, it  speaks  to  them  in  words  of  peace  and 
love ;  and  would  hush  all  their  fears  to  rest,  by 
persuading  them  that  He,  whose  "  kingdom  ruleth. 
over  all,"  understands  their  condition  and  wants, 
and  that  He  will  forever  be  their  Friend  and 


THE    JOY    OF   THE    GOSPEL.  233 

Benefactor.  I  have  studied  this  religion  in  vain, 
if  it  brings  any  other  than  joyful  tidings  to  the 
children  of  men,  and  if  it  has  any  other  tendency 
than  to  give  them  reconciliation  and  comfort. 
Be  their  condition  and  circumstances  what  they 
may,  be  they  rich  or  poor,  in  prosperity  or  adver- 
sity, in  the  paths  of  virtue  or  in  the  ways  of  vice, 
it  bears  to  them  a  cheerful  message,  and  tells  them 
that  they  all  have  a  Friend  and  Father  in  heaven, 
who  will  much  more  take  care  of  them  than  of  the 
outward  world,  and  who  will  never  become  their 
enemy  and  hater,  even  though  they  disregard  his 
authority,  and  tread  under  feet  his  laws  :  he  will 
still  love  them,  and  use  the  rod  of  his  justice  as 
an  instrument  of  mercy,  to  correct,  reform,  and 
bless  them,  "  even  as  a  father  the  son  in  whom  he 
delighteth."  It  is  not  so,  I  think,  with  the  reli 
gious  systems  which  owe  their  origin  to  the  wis- 
dom of  men.  They  all  go  upon  the  idea  that 
there  is  something  wrong  in  God,  or  his  govern- 
ment, that  the  Deity  has  become  an  enemy  to  his 
creatures  on  account  of  their  sins  ;  or,  at  any  rate, 
that  there  is  great  cause  for  fear  and  alarm,  and 
that  some  bloody  offering  is  to  be  made,  or  some 
disagreeable  and  irksome  duty  to  be  discharged, 
before  the  soul  can  be  safe  under  the  government 


234  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

of  its  Maker.  So  it  was  with  the  religious  teach- 
ings of  the  Heathen  in  days  of  old,  and  so  it  has 
been  with  every  system  of  religion  under  heaven, 
save  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  The  burden  of  their 
communications  has  been,  that  the  order  of  the 
universe  has  been  broken,  that  the  world  is  rest- 
ing under  some  infinite  curse,  and  that  God  will 
send  all  to  everlasting  destruction,  unless  they  do 
something  to  heal  the  breach  in  his  government, 
or  to  obtain  the  smiles  of  his  angry  countenance. 
In  this  way,  false  religion  has  engendered  melan- 
choly and  fear,  and  instead  of  relieving  or  abating 
the  evils  of  life,  and  giving  man  such  views  of  the 
divine  character  as  to  enable  him  to  triumph  over 
them,  false  religion  has  added  the  prospect  of 
imaginary  woes  to  his  real  miseries,  and  to  the 
fact  that  his  own  conduct  is  wrong,  it  has  con- 
nected the  idea  that  there  is  something  wrong  in 
God  ;  thus  making  it  impossible  for  him  to  have 
that  confidence  and  joy  which  constitute  the  life 
of  the  soul.  But  the  Gospel  comes  to  man  with 
better  news.  It  tells  him  that  there  is  no  disor- 
der in  the  universe,  except  it  be  in  his  own  con- 
duct, that  God  has  made  no  mistakes  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  world,  and  that  He  will  never 
leave  nor  forsake  the  creatures  he  has  made  ;  and 


'  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  235 

hence,  it  would  cause  them -to  trust  in  him  with 
all  the  heart,  and  to  have  peace  and  joy  in  the 
knowledge  of  truth. 

Am  I  right,  my  friends  ?  Why  did  Jesus 
Christ  teach  and  labor  ?  Why  did  he  preach  the 
great  principles  of  the  Gospel  to  the  children  of 
men  ?  What  was  the  object  ?  We  have  the  an- 
swer in  our  text.  "  These  things  have  I  spoken 
unto  you  that  my  joy  might  remain  in  you,  and 
that  your  joy  might  be  full."  What  a  beautiful 
commentary  on  his  life  and  labors  !  His  public 
ministry  was  now  closed.  For  years,  he  had  trav- 
eled through  the  vales  and  over  the  hills  of  Pales- 
tine, uttering  things  which  had  been  kept  secret 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world  ;  and  though  he 
had  preached  repeatedly  to  great  multitudes,  and 
though  he  had  been  followed  by  a  dozen  Galilean 
fishermen,  there  was  not  yet  a  single  being  on  earth, 
himself  excepted,  who  fully  understood  the  pur- 
pose for  which  he  had  labored.  That  purpose  he 
now  states  with  great  explicitness.  "  /  have  spo- 
ken unto  you,  that  my  joy  might  remain  in  you,  and 
that  your  joy  might  be  full."  He  had  labored  to 
impart  his  own  joy  to  men,  and  to  give  their 
hearts  a  fullness  of  the  same.  And  what  was  his 
joy  ?  Not  delight  in  sensual  and  worldly  pleas- 
ures, nor  in  scenes  of  revelry  and  mirth,  but  con- 


236  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

fidence  in  God  and  hope  of  good  things  to  come. 
In  this  one  respect,  what  a  miracle  was  his  life  ! 
He  was  environed  with  danger,  difficulty,  and 
even  death  in  its  bitterest  form,  but  he  always  had 
a  joy  within  him  which  the  world  did  not  give, 
and  which  it  could  not  take  away.  When  his  en- 
emies persecuted  him  ;  when  his  friends  forsook 
him,  and  when  he  looked  in  vain  to  find  a  being 
on  earth  to  sympathize  with  him,  and  comfort  him 
in  his  trials  and  sufferings,  there  was  sunshine  and 
gladness  in  his  soul.  To  God  and  the  future  he 
always  turned  with  emotions  of  delight,  confident 
that  the  evils  of  the  present  were  ordered  in  mer- 
cy, and  that  all  things  would  work  together  for 
good.  And  this  joy  he  wished  to  impart  to  his 
human  brethren.  He  knew  that  they  needed  it. 
He  beheld  their  condition.  He  saw  them  exposed 
to  sickness,  misfortune,poverty,  suffering,  and  death, 
and  he  counted  not  his  life  dear  unto  himself,  if 
he  could  impart  to  them  his  own  views  of  the  di- 
vine government,  and  give  them  such  a  fullness  of 
joy  as  to  enable  them  to  gain  a  complete  triumph 
over  the  evils  of  the  world. 

And  did  he  labor  in  vain  ?  Look  into  the  New 
Testament.  "  God  said,  Let  there  be  light,  and 
there  was  light."  The  introduction  of  the  Gospel, 
so  different  was  its  message  from  the  teachings  of 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  237 

the  world, — so  glorious  and  joyful  were  its  tidings, 
it  was  like  the  bursting  forth  of  light  upon  the  dark- 
ness and  turmoil  of  chaos,  when  "  the  earth  was 
without  form  and  void,  and  darkness  was  upon  the 
face  of  the  deep."  It  was  ushered  in  with  the 
announcement,  "  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings 
of  great  JOY,  which  shall  be  unto  all  people."  And 
whenever  and  wherever  it  was  preached,  and  by 
whomsover  it  was  received,  it  was  attended  with 
demonstrations  of  joy.  In  one  of  the  parables, 
the  joy  which  it  yields  to  the  true  believer  is  rep- 
resented by  the  delight  which  a  certain  man  had 
on  finding  a  valuable  treasure  in  a  field  ;  so  great 
was  his  joy,  that  he  was  ready  to  give  all  he  had 
for  the  field.  And  so  it  was,  in  fact,  with  all  who 
received  the  Gospel,  as  it  came  fresh  and  pure 
from  the  lips  of  its  heaven-commissioned  teachers. 
Will  you  mark  the  fact  ?  It  is  a  thing  of  no  small 
importance.  It  shows  that  the  true  Gospel  is  not 
after  man.  It  proves  that  the  genuine  religion  of 
the  New  Testament  is  adapted  to  the  condition 
and  wants  of  human  nature,  and  that  it  has  power 
to  wipe  away  the  tears  from  the  weeping  eye  of 
humanity,  and  carry  comfort  and  consolation  to  the 
burdened  heart  of  sorrow.  The  sacred  historian 
says,  "  The  disciples  were  FILLED  WITH  JOY." 
And  when  they  went  forth  preaching,  like  their 
21 


238  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 


Master  they  carried  joy  and  gladness  to  all  hearts 
who  received  their  message.  They  preached  in 
Samaria,  and  we  are  told  that  "  there  was  great 
JOY  in  that  city."  And  in  their  preaching,  they 
were  frequently -heard  to  say,  "We  declare  unto 
you  glad  tidings," — "  There  is  peace  in  believing, 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Spirit," — "  Whatsoever  things 
were  written  aforetime  were  written  for  our  learn- 
ing, that  we  through  patience  and  comfort  of  the 
Scriptures  might  have  hope  ;"  and  after  preaching 
in  this  manner,  they  often  pronounced  upon  the 
people  this  benediction,  "  Now  the  God  of  hope 
fill  you  with  all  JOY  and  peace  in  believing." 
And  they  were  not  using  words  without  meaning. 
What  was  the  testimony  of  those  who  heard  and 
believed  their  preaching  ?  Were  they  filled  with 
doubts  and  fears  ?  Did  they  look  up  to  God  with 
trembling,  or  upon  the  unseen  future  with  dread 
and  terror  ?  They  have  given  the  answer  :  will 
you  hear  it  ?  "  We  who  believe  do  enter  into 
REST."  "  God  hath  called  us  out  of  darkness  into 
his  marvelous  light."  "  We  have  peace  from  God 
our  Father,  and  from  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
"  We  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God."  "  Be- 
lieving, ive  have  joy  UNSPEAKABLE  and  FULL  OF 

GLORY." 

Here  we  learn  something.     Here  is  a  fact  which 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  239 


the  Christian  should  hold  in  perpetual  remem- 
brance. Jesus  Christ  spoke  to  the  children  of 
men,  that  he  might  impart  his  own  joy  to  their 
hearts,  and  that  their  joy  might  be  full.  And 
this  glorious  purpose  was  accomplished  in  all  who 
received  it  as  it  was  preached  by  him  and  his  disci- 
ples ;  they  were  delivered  from  all  withering 
doubts  and  tormenting  fears  ;  they  had  peace  from 
God,  and  were  filled  with  joy  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory. 

Now,  why  was  this  ?  What  was  it  which  those 
who  received  the  Gospel  believed,  that  gave  them 
so  much  joy  ?  Let  me  ask,  Was  it  the  cold  doc- 
trine of  scepticism  ?  Did  the  Gospel  bring  them 
the  tidings  that  there  is  no  God,  or  that,  if  there 
is  an  Author  to  the  existence  of  man  and  of  na- 
ture, he  is  a  mere  abstract  principle,  a  virtual  non- 
entity, which  takes  no  supervision  of  the  affairs  of 
the  universe,  no  interest  in  the  condition  and  wel- 
fare of  mankind,  and  devises  no  means  for  their 
moral  and  spiritual  happiness  ?  And,  consequent- 
ly, did  the  Gospel  tell  them  that  man  is  an  abso- 
lute orphan  in  creation,  that  he  came  into  existence 
without  design,  and  without  a  purpose,  that  he 
lives  for  no  higher  end  than  the  stone  over  which 
he  stumbles,  and  that  when  his  body  sinks  in 


240  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

death,  his  spirit  evaporates,  and  his  being  ends  in 
eternal  night  ?  I  say,  was  this  the  doctrine  of  the 
Gospel  which  Jesus  preached  that  he  might  fill 
men  with  joy,  and  which  the  disciples  and  all  the 
early  believers  found  "joy  unspeakable"  in  re- 
ceiving to  their  hearts  ?  My  hearers  can  answer 
the  question.  It  is  a  question  which  they  can  un- 
derstand, which  comes  within  the  scope  of  their 
powers.  Say,  then,  can  the  heart  of  humanity 
find  joy  in  this  doctrine  ?  Does  it  do  your  souls 
good, — does  it  fill  you  with  comfort  and  gladness, 
to  think  that  this  bright  and  beautiful  creation  is 
without  a  wise  and  kind  Creator,  that  yourselves 
are  children  without  a  Father,  and  that  all  your 
high  thoughts  and  pure  aspirations  are  mere  bub- 
bles on  the  waters  of  existence,  and  that  they 
must  perish  in  everlasting  nothingness  ?  I  know 
that  I  need  not  press  the  question.  Every  think- 
ing, feeling  mind  answers,  in  a  loud  voice,  No. 
This  doctrine  has  no  food  for  the  hungering  soul 
of  man.  There  is  no  nourishment  in  it  for  the 
social  affections  and  the  moral  sentiments.  It  has 
no  higher  tendency  than  to  starve  the  soul,  and 
diffuse  the  coldness  of  death  over  all  its  noble 
faculties.  Most  truly  did  an  eloquent  orator  say 
of  this  doctrine,  when  it  was  the  prevailing  philos- 


THE    JOY    OP    THE    GOSPEL.  241 

ophy  in  France,  "It  spreads  the  funeral  crape 
over  nature,  discourages  oppressed  innocence,  and 
insults  death." 

No ;  the  chilling,  freezing  doctrine  of  scepticism 
was  not  the  faith  which  Jesus  Christ  brought  into 
the  world,  and  which  warmed  and  rejoiced  the 
hearts  of  the  first  believers  in  Christianity.  Such 
a  belief,  so  far  from  giving  them  cheerful  views  of 
the  government  of  the  universe,  and  filling  them 
with  "joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,"  would 
have  eclipsed  all  the  beauty  and  glory  of  the  uni- 
verse to  their  minds,  and  filled  them  with  sorrow 
and  despair.  What,  then,  was  the  doctrine  which 
they  received?  Let  me  ask  again,  Was  it  the 
doctrine  which  was  the  universal  sentiment  of  the 
Christian  world  during  the  dark  ages,  and  which 
is  still  quite  common  in  the  church, — the  doctrine 
which  teaches  that  God  is  an  enemy  to  a  part  of 
his  human  family,  and  that  he  will  shut  them  up 
in  a  great  furnace,  and  there  burn  and  torture  them 
with  "  burning  racks  and  fiery  coals,"  as  long  as 
his  own  throne  shall  stand  ?  Do  not  say  this  is  an 
improper  question.  The  doctrine  of  which  I 
speak  is  a  very  common  one,  and  the  question 
which  I  ask  is  one  which  you  can  easily  answer. 
Does  the  idea  that  God  hates  a  portion  of  his 
creatures,  and  that  he  will  eternally  pour  upon 
21* 


242  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

them  the  besom  of  his  wrath,  give  peace  and  joy 
to  the  heart  ?  Does  it  fill  the  soul  with  "joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory,"  to  think  even  that 
we  shall  be  the  favored  ones,  —  that  we  shall 
finally  enter  the  high  and  holy  habitation  of  heav- 
en, but  that  we  shall  be  obliged  to  look  down  into 
a  great  naming  furnace,  and  behold  a  part  of  our 
race,  perhaps  our  own  children  and  friends,  rolling 
and  writhing  amidst  the  flames,  and  to  know  that 
they  can  never,  never  be  relieved  ?  I  can  imagine 
hearts  so  steeped  in  selfishness,  and  so  hardened 
in  cruelty,  as  to  prefer  this  doctrine  to  every  other, 
and  to  find  in  it  fullness  of  joy.  It  was  no  doubt 
a  joyful  thought  with  the  ancient  Pharisees,  that 
God  hated  the  Gentiles,  and  it  is  written  of  Nero 
that  it  would  have  been  his  greatest  pleasure  to 
have  had  all  the  people  of  Rome  made  into  one 
man,  and  then  to  have  cut  his  head  off  with  his 
own  hands ;  and  to  such  monsters  of  pride  and 
cruelty,  this  doctrine  of  divine  partiality  and  end- 
less misery  would  be  the  very  perfection  of  re- 
ligion. They  could  have  no  greater  joy,  than  to 
know  that  their  enemies  are  the  outcasts  of  God, 
and  to  gaze  upon  their  endless  agonies  ;  and  they 
would  shout,  "  Glory,  glory  to  God  in  the  high- 
est," when  they  heard  their  wailings  and  groans. 
But  I  cannot  conceive  that  the  human  heart  in  its 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  243 

natural  state,  much  less  the  heart  of  the  true 
Christian,  can  derive  joy  from  such  a  faith  and 
such  prospects. 

Who  can  fulfill  the  Gospel  rule,  "  Love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself,"  and  be  filled  with  joy  at  the 
thought  that  his  neighbor  is  under  the  curse  of 
God  ;  and  who  can  lay  any  claim  to  humanity,  to 
say  nothing  of  Christianity,  who  talks  of  expe- 
riencing delight  in  the  ceaseless  torture  of  a  part 
of  his  race,  even  though  they  are  his  enemies  ?  I 
have  known  many  nominal  believers  in  this  doc- 
trine, but  I  must  say  that  I  have  known  but  a 
very  few  real  believers  in  it.  The  heart  which 
God  has  given  them  ii  too  good  for  it.  They 
read  it,  perhaps,  every  day  in  the  creed,  and  a  blaz- 
ing hell  is  kept  constantly  before  them  in  the 
preaching  to  which  they  listen,  but  human  nature 
is  generally  too  strong  for  the  creed  and  the 
preacher,  and  they  persuade  themselves  that  they 
and  their  friends  will  escape.  But  when  the  creed 
and  the  preacher  prove  too  mighty  for  the  plead- 
ings of  the  heart,  and  the  mind  adopts  the  senti- 
ment as  a  living  truth,  what  is  the  effect  ?  Ah  ! 
peace  and  joy  forsake  the  breast ;  hope,  the  only 
comfort  of  the  miserable,  expires  within  them, 
and  the  soul  sinks  into  despair,  often  into  insanity. 
Mark  it  where  you  will,  the  advocates  of  this  doc- 


244  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

trine  are  joyful  and  happy  just  in  proportion 
as  they  disbelieve  it,  that  is,  just  in  proportion  as 
they  succeed  in  throwing  off  the  idea  that  the  doc- 
trine is  true;  and  they  are  filled  with  sorrow  and 
misery  just  in  proportion  as  they  believe  it.  Can 
this  be  the  Gospel,  then  ?  Can  this  be  any  part 
of  that  faith  which  rejoiced  the  hearts  of  the 
early  Christians  ?  Nay,  nay,  not  a  particle  of  it. 
And  do  you  not  see  why  ?  Belief  in  the  Gospel 
gave  joy,  but  belief  in  this  doctrine  gives  sorrow. 
The  early  Christians  said,  "  BELIEVING,  we  have 
joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory ;"  but  if  they 
had  been  believers  in  the  doctrine  of  endless  mis- 
ery, they  would  have  said,  as  its  modern  believ- 
ers say,  at  least  in  their  hearts,  "  Believing,  we 
have  sorrow  unspeakable  and  full  of  despair." 
This  is  certainly  the  sentiment  of  all  wh«  have 
made  a  hearty  trial  of  the  doctrine,  and  the  con- 
clusion ought  to  be  that  they  are  not  true  Gospel 
believers.  I  will  give  you  an  illustration.  I  know 
of  a  mother  who  was  lately  called  to  bury  a  son. 
She  had  been  educated  in  the  doctrine  which 
teaches  that  this  world  is  a  state  of  probation,  and 
that  all  who  do  not  experience  a  miraculous  con- 
version in  this  state  must  suffer  never-ending  tor- 
ments in  the  one  to  come.  The  son  died  without 
giving  satisfactory  evidence  that  he  had  expe- 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  245 

rienced  such  a  change,  and  the  good  woman  was 
almost  distracted.  She  awfully  feared  that  there 
was  no  safety  for  her  son,  and  she  more  than  half 
imagined  that  he  had  fallen  under  the  endless 
curse  of  his  Maker.  Her  faith  gave  her  no  recon- 
ciliation, no  joy,  and  as  she  gave  utterance  to  her 
sorrow,  she  was  heard  to  say,  "I  cannot  be  a 
Christian,  because  I  am  not  reconciled."  In  all 
sincerity  and  charity,  we  believe  that  the  woman 
was  more  than  half  right.  She  had  a  good  heart ; 
she  loved  her  son,  and  she  could  not  bear  the 
thought  that  he  would  be  banished  from  her  for- 
ever ;  but  she  was  wanting  in  the  faith  of  the 
true  Christian.  Had  she  been  a  believer  in  gen- 
uine Christianity,  in  the  Gospel  in  its  fullness,  as 
preached  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  as  believed  and  re- 
joiced in  by  all  the  first  Christians,  she  would 
have  given  up  her  dying  son  to  his  Father  in  heav- 
en without  a  murmur  or  a  fear,  and  bowed  with 
resignation  to  the  word  which  called  him  away  in 
the  brightness  and  beauty  of  youth. 

We  therefore  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  Je- 
sus Christ  taught  neither  the  cold  doctrine  of 
scepticism,  which  teaches  that  there  is  not  a  God 
who  loves  and  will  take  care  of  his  creatures,  nor  the 
more  common  doctrine  which  teaches  that  God 
loves  but  a  part  of  his  creatures,  and  that  he  will 


246  THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL. 

forever  burn  the  rest  of  them  in  the  fires  of  a 
quenchless  hell ;  and  we  have  come  to  this  con- 
clusion from  the  fact,  that  the  things  which  Jesus 
spake  filled  men  with  joy,  while  these  doctrines 
have  no  other  influence  than  to  fill  the  mind  with 
gloom  and  sorrow.  And  we  have  positive  proof 
of  the  correctness  of  this  conclusion  in  the  teach- 
ings of  Christ.  I  will  give  you  his  words.  "  Take 
heed,  and  bewaie  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Sadducees 
and  of  the  Pharisees"  The  doctrine  of  the  Sad- 
ducees was  a  system  of  speculative  scepticism, 
which  contended  that  God  took  no  interest  in  the 
human  race,  and  that  their  existence  would  end  in 
the  grave  ;  and  Christ  warned  men  against  it,  be- 
cause it  would  have  a  chilling  influence  on  their 
hearts,  and  leave  them  without  God,  and  without 
hope  in  the  world.  The  doctrine  of  the  Pharisees 
was  a  partial  system  of  religion,  which  taught  that 
God  loved  none  but  a  favored  few,  and  that  he 
would  inflict  endless  torments  upon  a  large  portion 
of  his  creatures ;  and  he  warned  men  against  it, 
because  he  knew  that  it  had  a  tendency  to  shut 
the  mind  up,  even  in  a  worse  state  of  darkness 
and  sorrow  than  the  gloomy  doctrine  of  the  Sad- 
ducees. 

"  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  my 
joy  might  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy  might 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  247 

lifull"  What  things?  That  is,  what  views  of 
the  divine  character  and  human  destiny  did  Jesus 
give,  which  could  fill  mankind  with  joy  ?  We 
will  give  you  a  brief  answer,  and  ask  you  to  search 
the  Scriptures,  to  see  if  we  do  not  tell  the  truth. 
1..  He  taught  that  God  is  the  equal  Friend  and 
Father  of  all  his  intellectual  and  moral  offspring, 
that  he  loves  them  with  pure  and  undying  affec- 
tion, and  that  he  will  much  more  take  care  of 
them  than  he  will  of  the  outward  creation.  Will 
you  hear  Jesus  speak  ?  "  Your  Father  seeth  in 
secret."  "  He  knoweth  what  ye  have  need  of 
before  ye  ask  him."  "  He  maketh  his  sun  to  rise 
on  the  evil  and  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  upon 
the  just  and  the  unjust."  "  He  loveth  the  world." 
"  He  is  kind  to  the  unthankful  and  the  evil."  "  Be- 
hold the  fowls  of  the  air ;  for  they  sow  not,  nei- 
ther do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns  ;  yet  your 
heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much 
better  than  they  ?  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field ; 
how  they  grow ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon, 
in  all  his  glory,  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these. 
Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass  which  is  to- 
day in  the  field,  and  is  to-morrow  cast  into  the 
oven,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  0  ye  of 
little  faith  ?"  "  Are  not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a 


248  THE    JOY    OP    THE    GOSPEL. 

farthing  ?  and  one  of  them  shall  not  fall  on  the 
ground  without  your  Father.  But  the  very  hairs 
of  your  head  are  all  numbered.  Fear  ye  not, 
therefore,  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  spar- 
rows." What  exalted  and  exalting  conceptions  of 
the  character  of  our  Maker  !  How  well  calculated 
to  give  mankind  confidence  in  the  care  and  love 
of  their  Creator,  and  to  inspire  their  souls  with 
joy  in  every  scene  and  trial  of  life ! 

2.  He  taught  that  a  glorious  immortality  is  in 
reserve  for  man,  in  which  he  will  be  delivered 
from  the  imperfections  and  sorrows  incident  to 
flesh  and  blood,  and  be  made  equal  to  the  angels 
in  heaven.  Hear  him  again.  "  I  came  down  from 
heaven,  not  to  do  mine  own  will,  but  the  will  of 
him  that  sent  me  ;  and  this  is  the  will  of  him 
that  sent  me,  that  of  all  he  hath  given  me," 
("  and  he  hath  given  me  power  over  all  flesh,") 
"  I  should  lose  nothing,  but  raise  it  up  at  the  last 
day."  "  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth, 
will  draw  all  men  unto  me."  "  Other  sheep  I 
have  which  are  not  of  this  fold  ;  them  I  must  bring, 
and  they  shall  hear  my  voice,  and  there  shall  be 
one  fold  and  one  shepherd."  "  In  the  resurrection 
they  shall  neither  marry,  nor  be  given  in  marriage, 
but  they  shall  be  equal  unto  the  angels  in  heaven ; 
neither  can  they  die  any  more,  for  they  are  the 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    GOSPEL.  249 

children  of  God,  being  the  children  of  the  resur- 
rection." What  cheerful  and  soul- comforting 
views  of  human  destiny  !  No  wonder  that  the 
first  believers  of  the  Gospel  were  filled  with  joy 
unspeakable  by  their  faith,  and  were  able  to  say, 
even  in  affliction  and  death,  "  We  joy  in  God 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  we  have 
received  reconciliation." 

Such  are  the  things  which  Jesus  spake,  that  his 
joy  might  remain  in  men,  and  that  their  joy  might 
be  full ;  and  what  a  blessing  have  these  divine 
sentiments  been  to  the  world  !  How  much  cheerful- 
ness have  they  shed  over  human  life,  and  how  many 
hearts  have  they  soothed  and  comforted,  when 
they  have  been  pained  by  the  weight  of  adversity 
or  by  the  inroads  of  death  !  Ah !  we  think  but 
little  of  the  value  of  their  influence  on  the  condi- 
tion and  happiness  of  our  race  ;  aye,  very  little 
indeed,  till  we  have  been  made  to  suffer  the  trials 
and  evils  which  lie  in  the  path  of  mortals.  The  value 
of  the  cheerful  view  which  the  Gospel  imparts  has 
been  seen  by  the  celebrated  Dickens,  and  he  has  ex- 
pressed it  in  the  following  sentence  : — "  If  I  have 
put  into  my  writings  anything  which  can  fill  the 
young  mind  with  better  thoughts  of  death,  or 
soften  the  grief  of  older  hearts  ;  if  I  have  written 
one  word  which  can  afford  pleasure  or  consola- 
22 


250  THE    JOY    OF    THE     GOSPEL. 

tion  to  old  or  young  in  time  of  trial,  I  shall  con- 
sider it  something  achieved — something  which  I 
shall  be  glad  to  look  upon  in  after  life."  This  is 
the  language  of  benevolence,  and  thousands  have 
been  made  to  shed  tears  of  joy  to  think  that  there 
is  a  writer  of  fiction  who  breathes  so  much  cheerful- 
ness through  his  writings,  as  to  soothe  the  fears 
and  mitigate  the  sorrows  of  some  of  his  race.  But 
what  has  Dickens  said,  or  what  can  he  say,  which 
hag  or  can  have  half  the  power  to  give  our  race 
cheerful  and  joyful  views  of  God  and  the  future, 
as  the  things  which  were  spoken  by  Jesus  Christ  ? 
And  yet,  there  are  many  in  the  world  who  seem  to 
be  unconscious  that  the  Gospel  has  been,  or  can  be, 
of  any  service  to  mankind,  and  who  would  even 
have  us  believe  that  it  is  a  cheat  and  a  curse  ;  and 
there  are  others  who  say  that,  if  the  Gospel  is 
good  tidings  of  great  joy  which  shall  be  unto  all 
people,  there  is  no  need  of  preaching  it  !  0,  when 
will  mankind  learn  the  true  sources  of  happiness, 
and  act  as  if  they  were  the  friends  of  their  race  ! 
"  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that 
my  joy  might  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy 
might  be  full." 


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